Fate Has It In For Me
by jigglyjelly28
Summary: "You can't stop Veela magic." He whispered evilly snapping his obsidian eyes to their green and blue ones, smirking cruelly. "I think you'll soon find that wherever I'm concerned, Hermione won't be able to help but come to my side. It's a fight you'll always lose." Draco was told when he was younger he was a Veela but had forgotten. Now he's told again and has a year to find her.
1. Prologue

_"Why the bloody hell did you refrain from telling me this important information?" I yelled in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor. Judging by my parents' slight winces, it was too early in the morning for such loud noises._

_"Oh, really, Draco, this is quite ridiculous. We've warned you years ago to avoid this reaction," Mother told me in her regal tone, eyeing one of the upturned tables that was a victim of my rampage. "There's no point getting your knickers in a twist now."_

_"As if! You never told me anything!" I accused, staring them both defiantly in the eye._

_"I remember the day we told you, very well, actually. You were ten years old and felt pretty excited at the thought of it. We told you everything - in this very room. You promised that you'd remember. Draco, honestly, how could you forget something so important?" she sighed._

_Oh right...I remembered that now...But you had to admit, some of the Veela traits were pretty amazing, especially from a ten-year-old's point of view. Moreover, they should have known that you shouldn't tell a ten-year-old boy the cool things first, before the downside of being part Veela._

_"I was ten! That was seven years ago! How could I possibly remember something that happened seven years ago?" I yelled in frustration. Surprisingly, Father hadn't said anything yet, but I was sure that that would soon change. He'd most definitely have something to say in this matter._

_"Are you saying that you don't remember anything? I have to go through this again?" Father asked incredulously. At my blank face, he added in a disdainful tone, "Better hope you remember this time, Draco, or we'd better all pray to Merlin that your children will be able to survive without the proper knowledge."_

_"How do you know that my children will have the gene for sure?" I challenged him, if only to reassure myself that I'd only need to remember the information for myself and then, once I no longer needed it, I could forget it, or at least just to make him have doubts._

_I slunk into a forest green armchair as my father stood up from his own, which was on the opposite side of the room, and stalked towards me. I refused to look my Father in the eye. Instead, I impatiently ran my hand through my light blonde hair, groaning once again in frustration at my predicament._

_"It has not skipped a generation since the Malfoy family began thousands of years ago," Father lectured me. I huffed in annoyance, hating how I now had to pay attention for real this time, because of the future Malfoy heirs._

_"Get on with the details about my predicament, then," I said impatiently._

_The quicker I got the outline of what it meant, the quicker I could go wallow in self-pity._

_"When you became of age, you came into some inheritance. Not the sort of inheritance that you had been so quick to assume seven years ago," Father drawled with an amused smirk._

_I just rolled my eyes. I was young! Sue me!_

_"Yes, yes, enough of that. Tell me the important things." I waved my hand in a motion to hurry on._

_"Enough of your rudeness! I'll let it slide for now, but when you come back during the holidays, I expect more respect. You're just a little irritable because you haven't found your mate yet, but hopefully she's at Hogwarts and you'll soon be fine again," he reprimanded me._

_I rolled my eyes again and let out another quiet huff of annoyance. This was going too slowly for my liking, not because I haven't found my whatever._

_"Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Your grandfather was half-Veela, but your grandmother was a full Veela. That makes me more or less full. Your mother, who is my mate, doesn't have any Veela, which makes you half. Understand?"_

_I nodded absentmindedly._

_"Veela are very complicated and beautiful creatures, with most of the population being female, but we, of course, have our fair share of males. The males are able to grow wings; it is a common trait for Veelas to have, but not all know how to make them appear or disappear when they want. It is a difficult thing to master – even I haven't been able to do it. When we are especially angry, Veela have a tendency to shoot balls of fire from their hands; this is a very rare trait, though, and you'd be either lucky or unlucky to acquire the skill. Our eyesight, hearing and touch are much more enhanced than normal wizards', as an almost animalistic instinct to be able to keep us alive, but we also use it to find our mate."_

_Curiosity had me raise my head to have my crystal grey eyes meet my father's similar coloured eyes. "You keep mentioning having a mate. I don't get it; what's so special about it?" I honestly asked._

_"That's the most important part: every Veela has a mate. On the day we are born, somewhere written in the stars, is someone who we are destined to be with forever. Veelas must win over our mate, any way that we can. Which I suppose is good for you, especially if your mate is practically unattainable, then you can put some of your Slytherin traits and natural charming skills to use."_

_"Divination is used to determine who I'm supposed to be with for the rest of my life? Divination is almost always wrong," I stated._

_"Not when it comes to Veela and the prediction of a mate. It's so clearly written you'd have to be blind to read it wrong," Father corrected._

_"Well, do you know who it is, then?"I asked curiously._

_"No. I find that Seers tend to give cryptic answers and so have not pursued the matter. It doesn't matter, anyway; it'll make it just a bit more challenging on your part."_

_"Well, what is the catch to this whole Veela-mate thing?" From my many years of living, I'd come to realise that with every good thing that happens, there has to be a catch._

_"The catch is that you have a limited amount of time to claim your mate as yours before you die. You have until your next birthday, which is in exactly a year from now, so looking at it, your odds are favourable. Of course, there is a catch to that catch, too. Let's just hope that your mate doesn't loathe your very being..."_

_A couple of thoughts of girls sprang to mind. Loads of them hated me, but then again, even more adored my very being. It could be any one of the two groups... "What-What if they do hate me?" I asked, concerned for my wellbeing. I certainly didn't like the idea of dying so soon._

_"Well, Veelas get irritated and angry very quickly. If your mate infuriates you so much that you have no control over your mind, and you insult her… well, let's just say that every time you hurt her, emotionally or physically, a week is knocked off your claiming time. So, you must try-"_

_"To keep a level head at all times when talking to any female at school, in case it is one of them and thus not shortening my unusual life span. Perfect," I muttered sarcastically._

_"Not only that, but if you claim her without her consent, then your bond will be ruined and as a result, you'll die from heartbreak."_

_My voice rose in dissatisfaction."But, what if she doesn't want me? What then? I'm just meant to accept my impending death?" _

_"Think of it this way, if she was head over heels for someone, or with someone that made her the happiest person and they loved each other lots and showed no hope of ever leaving the other, then you would have started your painfully slow death already. Your circumstances are hopeful."_

_"What if she doesn't go to Hogwarts? What then?"_

_My Father didn't hesitate after every question. It was as if he knew every answer like the back of his hand. "Well, we have already thought of that case, and so, we have decided to try introducing you to every pure-blooded girl that doesn't go to Hogwarts, until it's time for you to return for your last year."_

_"Great," My voice flat and emotionless. Sure, the pureblood girls were gorgeous, but they weren't usually intelligent. I'd be rather happy to die, if my mate was some airhead. "So, how will I know how long I have left? Surely there must be a way; you'd forget soon enough how long you've got."_

_"An intelligent question. On your chest, in the exact place your heart should be, are some numbers that are magically tattooed on your skin. Every day, the numbers will change, and when they do of their own accord, it'll feel slightly more painful than a pinprick. However, if you hurt her, resulting in an unnatural drop in your life span, the pain won't be as bearable. It will be like someone dragging a sharp blade deep in the skin around the old numbers and scraping the skin off and engraving the still tender flesh."_

_"And here I was hoping that I'd just get some sort of owl every day to tell me."_

_He ignored my sarcastic comment. "Oh, no. The pain is meant to condition your mind into never hurting her again."_

_"Life just doesn't get any easier, does it?"_

_"I wouldn't know. My life was so simple when I was your age. I already had Narcissa before I came into the inheritance, and I actually listened to my father when he first told me and didn't have to have the bombshell dropped on me again, unlike you." He sneered, probably revelling in my newfound pity and hopelessness, the arrogant bastard!_

_"Why do bad things happen to good people?" I muttered to myself in despair. Sulking once again, into the green lounge chair as my parents left the room._

_Some people viewed being a Veela as a gift, but, obviously, they didn't know the whole story of being one. Otherwise, like me, they'd believe it to be a curse. I was a good person. Well, I thought so. I'd changed my ways. Sure, I'd still find myself being better than others because I was a pure-blood, and if my mate was less than a half-blood I'd be forced to consider death, but I'd let go of most prejudices. Like how I no longer believed that the Dark Lord was the best but, then again, seeing that Potter had finally vanquished him, I'd have to rethink my views of him considerably anyway. I just hoped that Fate had picked out a favourable mate or I was going to be stuck in this sour mood forever. Or worse, I could end up dead and forever alone._

_Worst birthday ever..._

* * *

**A/N-First Veela story, how is it? Thanks to my good friend ParabataiNerds for beta-ing this for me! Check out their Clace drabble (TMI), it's lovely!**


	2. The Seer

The rest of the summer passed in a blur. After my birthday, every day was dedicated to meeting at least five different Pureblood girls that my parents had set up to try to find my Mate in the off chance that they didn't attend Hogwarts. They were all either from Beauxbatons, Durmstrang or just visiting the country and each girl seemed to just get worse and worse. Aside from the fact that each of the girls made me feel even emptier inside because although some were nice - all of them gorgeous - they just weren't the right nice or beautiful I wanted; the girls morals seemed to decrease. At first they were old friends who knew me and liked me for friendship's sake, next they were the daughters of my father's business clients, next they had heard of the Malfoy name and wanted to marry into it for money and power, then last of all were the harlots who just wanted to be with a Veela.

There were some excellent choices though, and I almost thought that they could be my Mate - but alas, it was none of them. There was Isabel, a small blonde, blue-eyed witch; there was Stevie, who was brunette with green eyes; Georgia, who had short black hair and brown eyes; there were even a pair of twins, Stella and Bella (only Merlin knows why their parents made their names rhyme) who were completely identical and feisty if you got their names wrong.

I can't even begin to imagine what kind of beauty has been hiding in Hogwarts for so long that she's escaped my notice and charm.

Soon enough though, Father and Mother had gotten annoyed at their lack of progress and after they had gone through every Pureblood girl they could find, they gave up. Completely and utterly gave up, only praying to Salazar and Merlin that she was at Hogwarts and not half way around the world where I would never find her.

Only days later though, Mother gave up on that too and spent the whole of 3 weeks trying to convince my Father to take me to see a Seer in Diagon Alley. He put up an extremely good fight against her - I wouldn't have lasted so long, one look from her and I would've been running to the fireplace with Floo powder already in my hand - but after so long he caved, promising to take me the next weekend.

This was today.

Not wanting to waste so much 'precious' time that he wanted to do who-knows-what with, we Apparated straight into the alley. Father, being ever so suspicious of someone figuring out the family's secret, looked around to see if anyone recognised us. I highly doubt anyone did, though, as we were covered in black cloaks with the hoods up to hide our faces; after checking, we quickly walked into Knockturn Alley and straight to the top of a seemingly abandoned building. If someone didn't know exactly where they were going they'd just walk straight past the shack, but luckily my Father knew exactly where to go.

The house reminded me of the Shrieking Shack in some ways - it had this eerie feeling about it, the floors creaked, there was dust and cobwebs with hundreds of spiders on them everywhere and it was almost as if the torn, burnt and otherwise destroyed paintings were watching you. Suppressing a shudder and shaking the feeling, I looked up to my father as he nostalgically said:

"My father took me here for clarification to who my Mate was when I told him it was Narcissa. She spoke very cryptically, as all Seers do, but I didn't completely listen to her words, as I just knew it was Narcissa, but you will listen to her and listen exceptionally well. Remember her words and try to work them out, it'll help you immensely."

"And if I don't remember anything once I leave? Let's not make the same mistake with my memory as you did in the past," I said rolling my eyes.

"I have a Quick Quotes Quill - everything will be written down for you to go over later. Maybe you should tell your friend Zabini to see if he can help you," He suggested.

"Fine, but I still think Divination is rubbish."

Walking up the stairs to the very top floor - making sure not to get our feet stuck in any of the existing holes or creating new ones in the rotten wood - our conversation ended with the silence being filled with the squeaks of rats and mice. At the top, where the Seer resided, it seemed no different from the rest of the house, as far as I could tell.

Not needing to push open a door because there was none, we walked into the small room, which was illuminated by several candles and nothing but a table in the middle and a cushion either side of the table, one of which was being occupied by the old woman. She seemed to sense our presence and looked up from her hands that were laid on the table.

"I was wondering when I'd expect the next heir to the Malfoy family to come see me. It's been a long time Lucius..." She said solemnly.

Only the whites of her eyes showed as she gazed intently at us, not because her pupils had rolled back to the back of her head - it was because she didn't have any. She was blind and had hidden away in this room for hundreds of years, I'm told, to pay service to predicting the Malfoy family's Mates and hide away from judgement from the people outside. No one outside the Malfoys knew she was here and no one bothered to find out, assuming the building was just another long rundown shop that used to be open in Knockturn Alley.

"It has been Ms. Vera," My Father bowed slightly. "But I have returned as you noticed with my son, Draco. He has come into heritage but so far has had no reaction with any of the Pureblood girls we've introduced him to; he's going back to Hogwarts and we're hoping for more help in finding out who she is." The older Malfoy explained, guiding me reluctantly forward towards her by my shoulder.

"Come sit, Master Malfoy. I sense that you're different to your ancestors. Come, come, and take a seat on the cushion there. That's it; now give me your hands," She said and watched me as I walked closer to her table and sat on the cushion. Taking my hands and placing them in hers gripping them tightly, she abruptly threw her head back to look at the rotting ceiling and started murmuring things under her breath.

Looking to my Father in an almost silent plea for help or confirmation, he only nodded in a way that said this is what she did during his time here. I simply sat watching her as she did whatever she was doing for a couple of minutes; then, she lifted my hands up higher, my palms now resting on her wrinkly ones that weren't holding mine anymore.

She then looked directly at me with her white eyes and I found that try as I might to tear my eyes away from hers I simply couldn't, as if she had fixed me in place. I couldn't move my eyes and when I tested to confirm my suspicions, I couldn't move any other part of my body either. Just out of the corner of my vision, I could see that my Father had gotten the notepad out along with the Quill and was just checking that it worked before turning his gaze back towards me. For a few seconds her mouth opened and closed without any words coming out but when she shut her mouth firmly and opened it once more, the cryptic phrases that we came to receive spilled out.

_"Your differences are few, _  
_Your likeness more common._  
_Only the bad she'll see through, _  
_The world she's from may seem foreign._  
_Push her away you might, _  
_And seem to embrace death with open arms._  
_Deep inside you'll never stop the fight, _  
_To capture her heart with your charms._  
_She'll change your thoughts, _  
_But her ideals won't be completely seen._  
_For you have been taught, _  
_Different morals that make you seem mean._  
_Your Mate will cause two worlds to collide, _  
_Causing your love to be tried._  
_At first Fate you may detest, _  
_But soon the Prince will be bonded with the Princess."_

While she whispered the prediction I tried to take as much of it in as I could, but almost every line was vague and I ended up giving up halfway through deciding that I wasn't going to figure this out myself. I was going to take my Father up on his suggestion of Blaise to help and, hopefully, the both of us would be able to figure it out in just under 300 days time, as my chest would constantly keep reminding me. The numbers made me seem like some sort of ticking time bomb.

Only one of the phrases really stood out for me though and that was the last one. _'But soon the Prince will be bonded with the Princess.'_ What did _that_ mean? I'd like to think that it was referring to my title, as the 'Slytherin Prince', meaning that my Mate would most likely be in Slytherin too, but that just didn't even feel right. However, maybe still thinking along the lines of my title at Hogwarts, it _could_ mean that my Mate could be anyone and once bonding with the Prince, it'd automatically make them the Princess. Of course, that didn't feel _entirely_ right either, but it did feel more right than thinking she was in Slytherin, which brought me to my next problem. _SHE'S NOT IN SLYTHERIN?_ The Fates must really hate me for something that I must've done in my past life and bestowed this horror of horrors upon me. How could she not be in Slytherin? How am I meant to tell my parents that the one I'm destined to be with is _NOT_ in Slytherin? Following on from that, it means there's an even lesser chance that she's even a Pureblood, and even if she is a Pureblood, the chances are decreased even more that she's not a Blood Traitor. '_Oh how the mighty have fallen...'_

Once the prediction was done, Father cleared his throat, signalling for me to thank the Seer. Once I'd done that, we walked towards the doorway and were ready to leave before she called out to me, "Don't let your past get in the way Master Malfoy, you are truly lucky."

Once out of earshot though, I scoffed at her words. There was nothing truly lucky about my situation. Once outside in the alley again, the written prediction was handed to me, which I placed in my pocket and then Apparated back to the Manor. When I arrived, I told my Father that I was going upstairs to work on the prediction while he informed my Mother of the visit. Upon entering my room though, the first thing I did was Floo Blaise telling him to come over immediately.

Five minutes later Blaise arrived in a panicked state, thinking there was some sort of crisis, which there was, but not to the scale that Blaise was thinking of. I quickly sat him down before he passed out from hyperventilating so much and explained the situation to him, to which he handled with much more careful thinking and understanding than he was doing around 5 minutes ago.

"And _why_ can't you just sort out this Veela-Mate-prediction thing out by yourself? It _is yours _after all," Blaise questioned, smirking. He knew I didn't really like asking for help. It just wasn't my way - subtly hinting, instead of out outright saying it - that was my way.

"Because it's complicated and I don't understand what I need to do so that I have a good understanding as to whom it is before I go back to Hogwarts. It'd be good to have two heads working on it instead of one, Okay? Just help and if you're jealous of this happening to me, let me assure you that it's not as sweet as you make it out to be. Fate really has it out for me."

"Fine, let's take a look at this bloody thing then." He said picking the piece of parchment up from the desk. "So, what do you know so far?"

"She's not in Slytherin," I muttered, annoyed to be confessing this to him, even if I did ask for his help.

"How do you know?" He asked genuinely interested, which was the complete opposite thing I expected him to do. I thought he was going to revel in my pity.

"Gut feeling. Just trust me on this, I just...know."

"Anything else you're sure of?" He asked noting down what I said.

"No."

"Well then let's look through it," he stated, running his finger over the lines. "Ah here, first line; 'Y_our differences are few,_ y_our likeness more common.' _Well, that could potentially mean she's not a Blood Traitor considering you have more things in common than differences. That's a good sign, right?"

"I guess." I shrugged. I began to pace along the length of the study, as Blaise sat at the desk.

"OK next, _'The world she's from may seem foreign.'_ Well that could contradict what I just said. If she was a Pureblood she'd have grown up in the Wizarding World which wouldn't be foreign at all to you, so that means she's either a Half-Blood that was raised in the Muggle world or a Muggle-Born. Which then leads nicely onto _'And seem to embrace death with open arms. '_Because of course, being the fact that she's a Muggle-Born - and don't try to deny it Draco - you'd just give up and welcome your impending death." Something inside of me felt something at the thought of her being a Muggle-Born but I pushed that off. There was no way that I was even considering the probability of her being one just yet.

Blaise continued to rant. "And then going back, she could be a Blood Traitor or a Muggle-Born again seeing as it says '_She'll change your thoughts, but her ideals won't be completely seen. For you have been taught, different morals that make you seem mean. Your Mate will cause two worlds to collide.'_ Of course, disregarding the last phrase it could also back up your thought that she is not in Slytherin. Which we have decided she's not. It also says _'Causing your love to be tried'_ which means that she could be a Muggle-Born, Blood Traitor, Half-Blood or which apparently she is, in a house that your parents and friends don't exactly approve of. Same goes for her for eventually being with a Slytherin, giving the fact that she might actually give you a chance. Moreover, you've already said that you hate what Fate's done for you, but the last line throws me a bit. It could mean anything..."

"Well then that was fairly quick, right? Only almost 3 hours spent figuring it out. So, what's the summary then Blaise?" I said grimacing at the only real possible types of people that could be them.

"You're looking for a girl who is _not_ in Slytherin, _not_ a Pureblood such as yourself, if she is though you're most likely ending up with a Blood Traitor like Weaslette." Upon seeing my mouth hanging open horrified at the absurdity of the thought, Blaise quickly continued on, not bothering to try and even sugar-coat it, "There's more of a chance that it'll be a Half and _even more _of a chance of it being a Muggle-Born. She could be in any year at school as that wasn't specified in the prediction, so you could be destined for a First Year, and if she's in our year she might not even be coming back to continue."

Once he was finished, not knowing whether I was going to be in anger or something and start attacking him to relieve myself of my anger for Fate, he quickly Disapparated back to Zabini Manor, leaving the parchment behind with all our notes and summary written on it. Taking out some red ink from the desk, I frowned as I re-read it with the added notes and reaching the very last phrase that had puzzled both him and me; I dipped my quill in the ink and circled it.

_'But soon the Prince will be bonded with the Princess.'_

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**A/N-A kind of filler chapter? Not very good I'm sorry, I just wanted them to go see a Seer and get a prediction before he went back to Hogwarts. Thanks to my friends ParabataiNerds to going through this after me. If there are any more mistakes that we've missed, could you please say?**


	3. First Signs Aboard the Hogwarts Express

Draco roamed the Hogwarts Express looking for Blaise - he was his only friend that decided to return to Hogwarts for their last, optional year. He passed many compartments but he was nowhere to be seen. Even now, with his newfound Veela sight (which was the only thing useful to him at the moment) and it was failing him miserably. As soon as Draco had stepped onto Platform 9 3/4, he completely ignored the sounds filling his ears. All he could hear was unintelligent, annoying and useless gossipy babble from the different years. His smell was also completely useless to him as it, according to a very helpful book his mother gave him about Veela's, was mainly used to smell out his mate. Of course, it was still heightened so he could smell everything at least 20x's better than he previously could and that came both as a curse and as a dream. He soon found out the hard way that not everyone smelled as pleasant as he had thought earlier, but, then again, the book clearly stated that there would only be one person who wouldn't smell as horrible as everyone else did - even on a hot, sweaty day.

He didn't actually know whether he was just being abnormally optimistic or his instincts were influencing him, but he could almost just feel that his mate was on this train somewhere.

Unintentionally, she was hiding from him.

From his Veela.

From their potentially unjust destiny together - if she chooses him, that is.

He could tell that his parents weren't too happy about what he found out from the Seer. After a long mental debate about whether he should just keep it a secret from them or just go out right and say it, he decided to make sure that the less that they knew the better. However, that concept was not to last as his mother brought the matter up first thing at dinner that night. He thought about lying, but he knew better than think that he could get away with such a lie with his parents. Draco practically blurted all the facts out in one big breath, staring pointedly at the wall behind his mother so he couldn't see their ashamed faces. Once his confession was over his Father sat for a few minutes in silence trying to form a response, but when he was unable to come up with any sort of answer, he quickly left the room. His Mother, on the other hand, sat there watching him for a reaction of some sort. When Draco didn't have one, she forced a smile onto her face and tried to look at least mildly happy for him. However, when that didn't work, she began to gush about how it was 'oh so romantic' because it's some sort of forbidden love and that it wasn't his fault that whoever it was had been chosen but it doesn't matter because they'll try their best to accept her. On top of all those well-worded lies, she also said not to worry about Lucius because he was just shocked but will come around to the fact soon - Draco believed that no more than he believed that Hippogriffs were harmless.

**XXXXXXXX**

I was just reaching the end of the third carriage when suddenly my lungs felt like they were constricting and I couldn't take in as much air as I needed to stay conscious. My breaths were getting shorter and shorter until I was sure that I wasn't actually taking in any oxygen. The top of my head felt like it was on fire and it was as if my brain was turning to ash as I soon found it more and more difficult to form coherent thoughts. It started to feel as if drums were beating loudly in my ears and multicoloured spots were starting to cloud my vision until all I could see were colours. My sight was just about to go black when all of a sudden:

"Draco!" Blaise called, snapping his fingers and waving his hand in front of my face while holding me up with his tight grip. His sudden appearance made me take a sudden intake of air out of shock, which seemed to snap me out of whatever condition I was in. I closed my eyes, shook my head and let out a shuddering breath before I looked back up to Blaise. "Draco, mate, are you okay?" He asked, concerned. I seemed to go back to normal in an unnaturally quick amount of time. One minute I was on the verge of blacking out, the next second I was prepared to continue doing whatever I needed to.

"Yeah, yeah...I'm-I'm fine," I breathed, probably looking confused. Blaise observed me for a second before turning his searching gaze to look around the corridor. I looked around too, trying to see what he was looking for but nothing was out of the ordinary. There was hardly anyone out of their compartments. He nodded absent-mindedly and gently pulled my arm towards his empty carriage.

"What happened?" He asked as we sat down, but something told me that he already knew the answer.

"I have no idea. It just sort of...happened. With no warning," I confessed. "I have a feeling that you know more than me, though."

"You really might want to read a bit more of that book your mother gave you," He suggested knowingly.

"And you have?" I asked incredulously

"Well, being the friend of a Veela-"

"Half Veela," I corrected him, sending a pointed look in his direction.

"Whatever," He said airily, waving the comment away. "I thought that I should know stuff in case you need my help, which you very clearly did a couple of minutes ago. See how much of a good friend I am?"

"So, what? You're some kind of Veela specialist now?" I asked smirking.

"Well, yeah," I scoffed at this.

"Are you ever going to tell me what the bloody hell just happened or are you just going to wait for it to happen again or something?"

Blaise sighed. "It's not going to happen again."

"Good, because if it did, I think I wouldn't be so lucky."

"Draco," At his tone of voice my heart dropped a little bit. It was the kind of voice he'd use when he knew I wasn't going to like something or think that things were going to continue to get worse. "Next time you'll most likely lose control of your logical side. You almost just passed out back there because, for the very first time since coming into your inheritance, you smelt _her_. When you smell her again, your Veela side is going to take over and Merlin knows what it will do to her - all we can do is hope that both sides of you have a good amount of common sense."

"_Smell her again? _I didn't even smell her the first time! Isn't there anything that we can do to stop it? At least temporarily?"

"Clearly, you did. Maybe you weren't paying attention to anything. And, unfortunately for you, there is nothing that we can do. We have to, as they say, let nature take its course."

"I wasn't exactly looking for her," I muttered underneath my breath, but being the only two in the otherwise silent compartment, he heard me.

"Well maybe you should. I mean, how many days do you even still have left?"

"283," I sighed, smiling bitterly. That seemed to end our conversation. I was still curious as to how much more he knew about Veelas than I did, but I didn't interrogate him about anything. Instead, I chose to stare out the window in my newfound melancholy, feeling the gaping hole in my heart grow after knowing that she's on the train, but not knowing where. A part of me just wanted to know where she was, but another, the more pessimistic side, didn't want to know out of fear that Fate hadn't finished being so cruel to me.

**XXXXXXXXX**

"Are you sure you're okay Harry? You look positively green," I asked my best friend. He just nodded tensely, seeming to try to keep himself from retching or gagging from the small gesture. Ginny sat next to him, rubbing his back soothingly. We sat in silence for most of the journey but Harry didn't seem to be getting any better - more like it seemed like he was losing the battle to keep his lunch down. Well, really, it was his fault that he and Ron had a sweet eating contest. Surprisingly, Ron was the first to cave in, rushing off to go be sick a whole hour into the competition leaving Harry the winner.

Suddenly a hard thud seemed to rattle our compartment's door. It sounded as if someone had been slammed into our door, which wouldn't surprise me much as the First Years looked like they could easily get themselves into a fight with the older years with one look. Either way, we didn't pay much notice to it - that was, until, we heard the familiar voice of Blaise Zabini. Him returning as an Eighth Year wasn't so bad in itself - it was what name he was shouting:

Draco Malfoy.

I groaned loudly. "I can't believe he's coming back! It's just the icing on the cake - first Crookshanks is dying, then Harry seemed to lose all common sense over the summer and wolfed down so many sweets that it's making him green, now we find out that Draco bloody Malfoy is on the train on the way back to Hogwarts! This year just can't get any worse!" I ranted to Ginny, Harry still maintaining the horrible shade of green.

"Don't make a mountain out of a molehill 'Mione, maybe he won't even bother us," Ginny tried to reassure me, not entirely sounding so sure herself - more like hopeful.

"I have a feeling that we won't be so lucky. I mean, he's bothered us every other year here - why stop now?" I reasoned.

"Well, we can always hope, can't we? Maybe it won't even be that bad - if he's grown anymore in the looks department at least we'll have a nice view," Ginny said teasingly, wiggling her eyebrows. Suddenly, as if Ginny unconsciously tipped the scale between Harry being able to keep the contents if his stomach down and letting it see the daylight once again, Harry vomited all over Ginny's robes. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a silent scream. Once she got over her initial shock, Ginny jumped up from her seat beside Harry as he continued to empty his stomach. Quickly whipping her wand out from her pocket, being careful to avoid any of the sick, she muttered _'scourgify'_ and her robes were clean once again. Satisfied that they were clean, she gave a half smile but put her sleeve to her nose and sniffed it. Pulling it away with a repulsed expression, she started to get teary eyed. "They're ruined! They absolutely stink!" Finally finishing puking, Harry looked up with the decency to look both sheepish and shocked.

"I'm so sorry Gin - I didn't mean to." Harry rasped.

"It's not your fault," She forced out her mouth but seemed to mutter something under breath along the lines of, _'Well not entirely.'_ "I'll just lose points until mum gets me a new one," She added bitterly. I felt truly sorry for my friend and I didn't want their relationship to be ruined over Harry's momentary stupidity. I had a spare set of robes anyway - lucky Ginny was in Gryffindor too.

"No, no need Ginny. Lucky you were sorted into Gryffindor, because I have a spare set of robes you can have," I told her.

"'Mione are you-" I cut her off before she could complete her question - I knew what she was going to ask anyway.

"Yes, I'm sure Ginny. You can keep them too - I have no use for two robes and I'm not letting you go get another one when you can just take mine. I'm sure it'll fit perfectly too."

"Thank you so much!" Ginny squealed as she rushed over to give me a hug. I pulled away from her quickly, though, as I realized that she definitely wasn't over exaggerating when she said her robes stunk.

"Oh Merlin, you _do _reek! Get into my robes quickly before it seeps into your other clothes," I exclaimed as I pulled my trunk down from the shelf and opened it, hurriedly searching through and shoving the clean robes into Ginny's hands, playfully shoving her out the compartment. "And don't come back until you smell better!" I called after her teasingly. Closing the compartment door again, I 'scourgified' the seat that was covered in Harry's vomit, and despite the cold air, opened a window to get rid of the smell.

It should've only taken Ginny about two minutes to come back to the compartment, but when she didn't Harry and I started to get worried...


	4. Weaslette!

"Hey Blaise, I'm going to go get changed into my robes." I said to him as I stood up and pulled my trunk off of the shelf to get my robes out.

"Oh, OK, I'll get into mine too then." Blaise said, and by the way he sounded I knew that he wasn't actually planning to change so soon.

"It's because I'm going isn't it? You think that I can't handle myself after what happened, right?" I asked, accusation laced into my voice. I already knew the answer but I wanted to see if he'd confess. When he didn't, instead looking guiltily away from my stare, I rounded on him, angry. "I don't _need _a babysitter _Blaise_-I can handle my bloody self!" I growled and stormed out of the compartment, slamming the door shut behind me. I stomped towards the bathrooms, pushing away anyone that was too slow to move with my new Veela strength. By the time I reached my destination I was dizzy again, but not because of her scent-because as a precaution from my Veela doing anything rash, should I smell her again, I held my breath the entire way over here. Inhaling the air for the first time since I left the compartment, it took only a second to stop being dizzy. I smiled to myself; I could easily get back without anything bad happening. I do that and I'll be able to prove to Blaise that I don't need him watching me. It was my Veela anyway-not his-I needed to know for myself what might happen if I wasn't careful. Not that I was anyway-I wasn't taking any chances.

The scent must've only been in the carriage my compartment was in-the 3rd one-because I couldn't even smell anything and I was only in the next one. I just had to hold my breath once I was about to go into the 3rd carriage. Simple. I got changed into my robes and then splashed some water on my face to calm down some slight nerves, then left the bathrooms. I was walking back towards my carriage taking in big breaths, savouring them until I had to hold it, when I passed some laughing second years. Their laughs were irritating and were grating on my nerves but as I was about to lash out at them, I was overwhelmed with a sweet, sweet smell. Sugar, cinnamon and the scent of flowers after the Spring morning's dew filled my nostrils and immediately I was calmed but at the same time was feeling energetic-it was like some sort of drug. Naturally, the most trusted side of me, the one that I knew like the back of my hand-my Wizard part-was scared out of his wits and was trying so hard not to be brushed to the back of my mind, like what was currently happening, and stay in control. But, my Veela wasn't going to let that happen even for a moment. It took over as the main part of my mind and my stomach seemed to flutter in nervousness. I had stopped walking in my daze, lifting my head up to get a bearing from where the smell is coming from; I sniffed the air like some sort of dog. I was pretty sure there was a grin on my face from where my cheeks were hurting, but I continued to walk forward in a trance and stopped in the middle of the corridor when I felt that the smell couldn't get any stronger. My eyes fluttered closed and I took in the biggest breaths as if my life depended on it. At the back of my mind I was mildly aware of someone saying something, probably talking to me because I could only vaguely make out 'Malfoy' even though it was more of a mumble. I was shaken out of my dazed when I was very rudely shoved very violently into the compartment behind me. Snapping my eyes to the offending person, I saw it was none other than the Weaslette. I quickly reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back towards me so I could have some words with her, although I wasn't entirely so sure how that would work out because I wasn't in my Wizard frame of mind-but surely it couldn't make such a difference, could it? I was so dearly wrong.  
"What was that Weasl-" I sneered, glaring at her, when suddenly the scent hit me full force again, this time stronger than ever before. I let out a cool breath against her shoulder as my eyes closed again and my smile appeared back on my face. It was a real battle now inside my head where the Wizard was so badly trying to gain control, having some sort of instinct that nothing was going to go well. This time, I was so dearly right.

"Let go of me Malfoy." Weaslette growled and she tried to struggle out of my grip. _'Feisty this one...' _I thought sounding very pleased at the prospect. Instincts were telling me that she wasn't the one though, but I refused to listen to instincts instead focusing more on facts:  
Fact one: She smelled great-fabulous-_sexy _and there was no way that she could fake that.  
Fact two: She fit perfectly with the prophecy.  
Fact three: She smelt amazing.

"Oh Merlin, I think I love you." I whispered in her ear. Her breathing hitched and I grinned to myself. So she felt it too? She was so mine...

"Malfoy, I'm not joking. Get. Off. Me. _Now_. There is something seriously wrong with you." She spat as she struggled even more against me.

"There's nothing wrong with me. I love you. Say you love me too..."

"I don't love you! Yes, you're deliciously handsome-but I love Harry! Now get off of me you _freak_!" Ginny confessed in such a voice that it sounded as if she was being tortured. Her face was red from anger and all her struggling but I hoped it wasn't from embarrassment. She was panting heavily but still, she never stopped trying to get free. She was a good fighter- I found myself liking that too.

"You _may_ believe that, but I _know_it's not true. You'll fall out soon and, when you do, I'll be waiting for you to accept that you return the feelings for me." I snapped, feeling less rejected that I think I should since she denied me. You'd think if your destined mate rejected you, then the gaping hole that's already in your heart would've widened-but it didn't. It didn't feel as though it'd been filled and it didn't feel as though it had gotten emptier. It was just...unaffected-which would mean something's wrong, right? "See you later Ginevra!" I sneered and stormed off fuming once again. I trudged my way back to Blaise, ignoring the sweet essence that lingered the entire way there, knowing who it belonged to and knowing how much she angered me. She irritated me even more than Blaise did and he was only trying to help me because he knew something like that would happen. Really, I knew that the only reason I was angry with them were the reasons that both my Father and the book told me; I was angry at Blaise because Veela's got angered and irritated quicker and easier than normal especially without their mate, and I got angry at Ginny because-no matter how little the Veela actually felt it-she denied me. That angered me-I was much better than the stupid Boy-Who-Lived.

I yanked the door open and sat on the bench in the corner quietly seething as Blaise gave me a knowing look. As quick as the Veela took over, I felt it fade to the back if my mind as the Wizard finally gained control again. Suddenly my anger turned into shock, regret, annoyance and disappointment and I fluidly stood up and forcefully kicked the bench as hard as I could, knowing that I wouldn't badly damage my foot. Another useful trait of a Veela. _'I should've obliviated her when I had the chance! Who knows whether she'd go blabbing to her stupid friends. Then what would everyone think?! Draco Malfoy has probably finally gone mad and is now proclaiming his love to Blood Traitors.'_

This was harder than I imagined. Maybe I shouldn't have shot down Blaise's help so quickly...But it doesn't matter anyway now-if I just change my mind now it'll be seen as weakness. I'll just have to read those books as he suggested, and see if there is anything that _I_ can do instead since there's nothing that _we_could do. Does that make sense? Well, it does to me in my head; the Veela put the idea in my head and it just feels like instinct to follow it. Anyway, once the above leaves me no choice but to go crawling back to Blaise for help, which I hope it won't, I'll be going solo.

"No problems then?" Blaise inquired although it sounded as if he already knew.

"None at all." I growled, flickering my eyes to meet his for the first time since I re-entered.

He had the nerve to examine me for signs that he knew so well to tell whether I was lying, with a haughty expression on his face. He gave another knowing grin before transforming it into a mocking smirk, "Good then, I can see you don't need me. I think I might go 'round by myself and see what other 8th years that are returning-I hear we're the only Slytherin's back. Don't wait for me, I might not even return, you can get on the carriages by yourself since you can handle yourself so well." Blaise got up and with a mocking salute to me, left me by myself in the compartment. It was only then that I realised that he had changed into his uniform too. He probably was never going to return...

Not that I cared anyway. I had already decided that I'm doing this on my own, so I might as well get used to sorting myself out. I truly didn't need him...

But we're the only 8th year Slytherin's returning, huh?

No, no. It doesn't change anything. Slytherin's we're never ones to help each other out anyway, so it's only second nature to do it on my own. I know what he's trying to do anyway, but I won't give in that easily. He should know that my pride won't just roll over and let me ask for his help which was what he was trying to trick me into doing-I'm just too smart for that and I saw right through it, so if he really wants me to be tricked he needs to try harder. Besides, it's only a certain amount of time before Ginny realises that I was right and _she _comes crawling back to _me_.

* * *

"Ginny! Finally, Merlin what took you so long?!" I asked as soon as she ran in, hair all over the place, crazed expression in her eyes, panting heavily as she leaned against the compartment door as if some crazed murderer was after her.

"Where's Harry?" Ginny tried to ask casually but panic was evident in her voice. I observed her carefully, not once did she move from her position on the door but she looked close on the point of hysterical. Now, come to think of it, Ginny was close to resembling the Muggles that are in the horror movies that I watched one summer with my Muggle friends.

"He went to the toilets not long after you left, he said that he was also going to have a look 'round, apparently there aren't that many 8th years returning. Only 10, I heard." I replied cautiously. I heard her heave a large sigh and slide down the door to crouch on the floor.

"Malfoy is definitely back." She shakily replied. "And I think the War's made him go mental. He needs to have his own private suit in St Mungo's or something."

"What...happened Ginny?" I asked curiously. Since the War I hadn't heard much of Malfoy, which I suppose isn't so much of a bad thing, but I had never heard of anything regarding him going 'round the bend.

"You promise not to tell anyone? No one at all-most importantly not Harry and not Ron?" I nodded my head slowly and no sooner than I did, did she quickly jump from the floor and flew over to sit right next to me with wide eyes. She took a big breath and began explaining."Well, as you know I went to change my robes and on my way there...I came across him. He looked as if someone had cast the Imperious Curse on him, walking down the corridor in some sort of trance with a smile on his face-which is weird in itself because I've never seen Malfoy smile once and only 10 minutes ago he had the largest smile I'd ever seen. Not that it was a bad thing, I think he looked even more handsome than usual. But anyway, back to what happened. I was telling to shove it for practically 5 minutes as he was just stood there in the middle of the corridor blocking my way, but he showed no inclination that he heard me, so I shoved him out the way and it was as if that broke his trance. As I moved past him he grab me and pulled me back around so that I was facing him. It was like the old Malfoy had come back as he was about to insult me but then he didn't and he went all weird saying that he loved me and that he 'knows' I don't love Harry." She rambled on.

"You don't love Harry?"

"No! No, of course I do! Its-Its-Its just him 'Mione! I told you he's gone mental!"

"Well, I think it's best that we just forget about it. Knowing him, if someone had cursed him, as soon as he's released he'll try his hardest to forget too."

"No mentioning it to anyone either, remember?"

"I'm not exactly sure whether it'd be much use if I did tell someone anyway-but don't worry-I won't!"

"If he ever comes near me again I'll hex him so badly..." Ginny mumbled darkly to herself.

* * *

**A/N- OK, so I know that Draco is definitely out of character at some points in the story, but let's remember that it's at those points that his Veela side is in control and so he wouldn't really be the same as he normally would, hence the random out bursts of OOC-ness. **

**Aw, poor Draco is in denial. He better realise that he needs Blaise as soon as possible because Fate is going to through everything it's got at him.**


	5. There's Something About Lovegood

"First years over here!" Hagrid called in his loud booming voice, over the racket that was being produced by the older years. Draco jumped out of the carriage and walked over to the Thestral-drawn carts that took you up to the castle. Since the war, Draco was able to see the Thestrals now, but, then again, nearly every student-not counting the first years-could see them now thanks to the battle at the end of last year. Of course, some still couldn't see them as the cowards had left the castle at the first sign of danger and never experienced the sight of death as Draco had first-hand himself. He sat on one of the seats in the cart and waited for it to fill up. A couple of 5th year girls came in and every time they looked at Draco, or Draco looked at them, they'd giggle and blush. But he didn't look at them much; one, because he didn't want them to be constantly giggling; two, because he was purposely turning his nose away from the scent that wasn't as inviting as Ginny's and three; he was busy watching as Harry's gang of Luna, Ginny, Hermione, Ron and Neville made their way towards the carriage.

Only one seat was left in Draco's carriage by the time that they were only a couple of feet away from it, and, coincidentally, the space was next to him. Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Neville and Ron were all in a small huddle whispering conspiratorially amongst themselves as they occasionally snuck glances in Draco's direction. He was aware of what they were doing, after all, he was facing them and his hearing had developed greatly, although they weren't aware of it and so didn't know that he was actually listening in on their conversation.

"Well one of us has to get in that carriage. We all know the next one won't come unless that one leaves, and that won't happen unless that one is full." Ron whispered to his five friends, making it clear in his voice that he wasn't going to sacrifice himself to go sit next to the enemy he's had for 8 years. Draco scoffed in his seat and rolled his eyes; _'I'm not _that _bad, am I? It's only a 10 minute journey anyway.'_ He thought to himself distractedly. _'Anyone but Weaslette.'_

"N-Not me. I may have come into my Gryffindor courage, but Malfoy still unnerves me." Neville stuttered slightly, but made it clear that he wasn't going to be so easily persuaded into sitting next to the ex-death eater.

"Well as no one else has said it, I guess I'll have to." Harry sighed. "I don't mind taking the seat. What?" He said at his friends bewildered looks. "His mother did lie to save me. Maybe Malfoy has changed." _'You have no idea Potter.'_Draco thought to himself.

"Well he certainly looks like he has, doesn't he? A lot more defined and aware of things, not to mention handsome. Of course, with the changes that he's been through, I'm not surprised." Luna said dreamily as she gazed in Draco's direction. To Draco, she had a knowing sound and look to her as she looked at him, but he was quite nervous as to whether she actually knew or, she was just being loony like her nickname suggests. To her friends, that's exactly what she sounded like: loony. They didn't pay much attention to what she said though because most things that she said didn't really make much sense to them, as she sometimes spoke vaguely or in riddles that no one could seem to understand, and the other times, people just thought she was speaking nonsense. Everyone in their huddle turned their heads to look at Draco and before they could see that he was spying on him, Draco turned his head to look at the girls who only seemed to just giggle louder much to his annoyance. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that they were all giving him unsure looks and after a few seconds, they turned back, letting Draco continue to watch them without being noticed. They were looking at her with the same looks that they looked at Draco with but she still seemed unfazed. Again, to Draco, she seemed to have an unrecognized or secretive knowledge about her and he felt drawn to it._ 'Could she be my mate?'_ He found himself thinking. '_No, she doesn't fit with the prophecy. Besides, I shouldn't even be asking myself that. I know it's Ginny.' _Nevertheless, he suddenly found himself wanting it to be Lovegood to sit next to him so he could see if his suspicions of somehow knowing were correct. "If no one else will, I don't mind taking the seat. I think it'd be rather insightful to sit next to him; I'd like to know about his family's secrets."

"You are probably the only person on this planet that wants to know about the Malfoy's Luna." Ron told her bluntly, and, for once, Draco couldn't help but find himself agreeing with him. It's true; no one did want to know about the Malfoy's because of their Death Eater past and their Pureblood beliefs. He was almost touched that someone wanted to know about his family because they weren't all that bad, but he was now convinced that there was only one secret that she wanted to know, and that was about his Veela past. He was sure that he wouldn't exactly know how to handle the questions that she might ask because, truth be told, he was wondering the same thing. It was only enough-and a recent re-discovery-for him that he even knew that he was a Veela and since then he didn't really know anything about the past Veelas' in his family apart from only two generations back. Luna only shrugged, unaffected by Ron's blunt words and this only made Draco admire the Lovegood girl even more.

"Is anyone else willing to put aside their feeling for only a couple of minutes just to take the seat?" Harry asked sounding tired.

"Ginny!" Hermione chirped happily, as she nudged her friend in the side. They turned their expectant gazes over to the little redhead next to Hermione who was momentarily rendered speechless.

"No, no! Not me!" Ginny blurted out loudly once she managed to gain her speech back, giving Malfoy a wary look.

"But he likes you Ginny." Hermione whispered under her breath, as she turned to face her, loud enough for her to hear and no one else.

"He DOESN'T like me!" Ginny stressed under her breath as well so that the boys didn't hear her.

"Well from what you told me, it sounds like it's a matter of more than liking you. Sounds like love." Hermione insisted teasingly. _'Ah, so the Weaslette was unable to keep her mouth shut.'_

Sounds like he's gone insane!" Ginny protested.

"Look, if he really is just mental and not telling the truth, what's the problem in sitting next to him for 10 minutes?"

"You weren't there!"

"Oh come on, it wasn't like he ra-" At Ginny's insistent look Hermione cut herself off. "Don't be so melodramatic Ginny."

"What?! I'm not!"

"So you just forgot to tell me that he...raped you?" Hermione asked disbelievingly. "Well that's the most mental lie I've ever heard. Maybe you can share that suite in the insane ward at St Mungo's with Malfoy." Draco was furious. _'It was nowhere near rape!' _He wanted to yell until his voice was hoarse and only when that happened would he call St Mungo's and personally arrange for Ginny to get a check-up.

"I'm not going crazy! It was almost rape!"

"Mmhmm, yeah, sure Gin; because when some tells you that they love you against your will, it's classified as rape. He didn't do anything." _'At least Granger isn't so stupid as to think that was what happened.'_

"Whatever, I'm still not ever sitting next to him."

"But from what it sounds like, he's able to stand you. I'm _not _being insulted for 10 minutes straight." Ginny turned back around to face the rest of the group who were all-with the exception of Luna-giving her and Hermione weird looks because of their whispered argument.

"Well, 'Mione said that she's not going to and I, my brother and Neville have already made it clear that we're not going anywhere near him. So, it's either you or you." Ginny stated pointing to Luna and then to Harry.

_'Lovegood, Lovegood, Lovegood, Lovegood,' _Draco mentally chanted. He tapped his foot on the floor to the beat of his chanting, his nose was scrunched up, eyes shut tightly and the fingers on both of his hands were crossed as superstition to wishing that he had developed since being a young boy. He was aware that the girls must've been staring at him and maybe Harry's gang too because of the hairs standing up on the back of his neck, but that didn't stop or falter his wishing. _'Lovegood, Lovegood. Oh, fuck it! Luna, Luna, Luna, Luna. Luna Lovegood, Luna Lovegood.' _He continued to chant until he felt the presence of someone next to him and the jolt of the carriage as someone sat down next to him. Slowly he opened an eye and let out a big sigh of relief as he thanked the Fates for letting him have his way for once. Draco saw her turn her head to look at him and smiled which he returned with as much feeling as she was putting into hers, much to the disappointment of the others in the carriage who he only sneered at when they smiled at him. Behind her, he could see the next carriage pull up and the rest of her friends pile into that one, laughing and chatting happily as if they were thankful that they were all together-as if Luna didn't sacrifice the carriage ride up to the castle with her friends so that they could all be together. Not that she minded though, she was happy to have a chance to talk to the Half-Veela.

"Hello Draco." She whispered so quietly that no normal wizard could've heard what she said. She was testing him-not that he knew-to see if his hearing was as improved as all the books about Veelas' had said.

"Luna." Draco responded not seeming to struggle with hearing what she just said. She grinned wider, happy knowing that the books were obviously true. "You know about me, don't you? I heard you talking to them; I can tell you know."

"It's easy to tell a Veela when you see one if you know what you're looking for." Luna replied just as quietly as she did before, careful not to let the nature of his identity be heard by the others in the carriage.

"How do you know what to look for?"

"My Mother was part Veela. She died when I was a young girl, but I remember her and Father spoke about her a lot. There were lots of books around the house about Veelas' too and I've read all of them."

"So you're a-a...you know, part Veela then?" Draco asked cautiously.

Luna shook her head, not angry or offended. "The gene didn't pass on to me. My children might have it though, we can always hope, can't we?"

"I wouldn't hope for them to be cursed with being part Veela. It's not...pleasant. I almost died on the train."

"Who is your mate then, or don't you know yet?" She asked. Draco tried to say, 'It's that Blood Traitor Ginny Weasley.' but he found that he couldn't force the words from his mouth. He tried rephrasing it, tried taking out parts like 'Weasley' and 'Blood Traitor', tried using 'Ginevra' instead of 'Ginny' but found that, that didn't work either. He tried saying other words to see if it was just him, but realised that he could say anything except that his mate was Ginny.

"I-I can't say her name." He said confused as he put a hand over his Adam's apple and tried once again to say it, but to no avail. "I haven't had a problem saying it since-actually I've never said it aloud. I can think it, but I can't say it."

"Illusions are tricky to understand." Luna replied cryptically. Draco took a moment to think about, trying to understand that secretive knowledge that he believed that she possessed, but he found that he just couldn't.

"I don't understand. What do you mean?"

"I _mean_, you can _think _lies but believe it's the truth, you can say the truth but believe it's lies." Draco so badly wanted to understand the younger Ravenclaw, but he decided that her words were too cryptic for a Slytherin like him, even if he was the cleverest of them. He left it at that for the rest of the carriage ride and they mostly travelled in silence apart from the occasionally questions from the inquisitive Ravenclaw. He trusted her by the end of it, although he felt like he needed a book on Luna to understand what exactly she was on about half the time, and if he couldn't have Blaise helping him, he was content with having Luna help him.

However, even though he trusted her, his Slytherin instincts told him that she was keeping something. When he asked her about it, she replied either vaguely or not at all. Therefore, eventually, he stopped asking her but he still had the nagging feeling that he really needed to know what she did.

* * *

**A/N-So here's the next chapter! Had to get it up today otherwise I'd be procrastinating all weekend with the essay that's due on Monday.**

**So, Draco still believes that Ginny is his mate. Oh how wrong he is! Luna seems to know that too, but poor Malfoy doesn't understand. Get some sense Draco!**


	6. The Eighth Years Reunion

**A/N-I don't want to be a review whore or anything, but having a couple of reviews would be nice, you know?**

* * *

"Mr Malfoy! Over here please." The strict voice of the new Headmistress called as he was about to enter the Great Hall with Luna Lovegood, ready to eat and watch the First Years get sorted. As soon as he heard the firm voice of the Headmistress however, Draco wasted no time in saying goodbye to Luna and hurriedly walking over to where McGonagall was standing. It seemed that McGonagall was calling over all the 8th years, granted there weren't many so far, but they were gathering by her at the bottom of the staircase nonetheless.

He observed the two groups with only a fraction of interest as he stood off awkwardly to the side, as by the glares he received he was clearly not being welcomed back like a hero as most students had. But, then again, Draco wasn't really expecting them to. Blaise, he saw, was already standing there talking to one of the twins-the one that was in Ravenclaw. There was also two Hufflepuff's standing together chatting with a Gryffindor, although Draco didn't know them. At least not much. He distinctly remembered one of them-Lavender Brown was it?-going out with Weasley for a short while back in sixth year, and seeing them snogging everywhere he went to try escape his troubles. As if planning to kill Dumbledore wasn't bad enough, the sound of them two moaning would haunt him forever. The other two? Well, one of the Hufflepuff's was ginger too, but in Draco's opinion, had a calmer colour of red than any of the Weasleys'. He had about the same amount of information on the other Hufflepuff. All he had really come to understand was that the Abbott girl might _have _had, or is _still _having some sort of relationship with Longbottom. Potter and his little gang-minus Ginny-were called over when McGonagall caught sight of them, and when they approached, they were welcomed with the congratulatory praises that came with being heroes. When all the 8th years that were written down on her little register, that said who was returning, were standing in front of her, she called for all of them to follow her as she lead the group away from the Great Hall without any explanation. Not that they needed one to do as they were told from McGonagall. She was just that scary.

"Professor, where _are _we going?" Lavender Brown questioned the Headmistress with the curiosity that no one else seemed to have. Yes, they were wondering what exactly was happening, but it wasn't piqued as much as Lavender's was.

"I reckoned that you would've had enough of watching the First Years get sorted by now; besides, the Sorting Hat seems to be running out of songs. I dare say that compared to previous years, this sorting might be quite a disappointment. Anyway, you won't be missing food if that's what you're worried about. I'm almost certain that you all know where the kitchens are, either way, the House-Elves will be more than happy to serve you all in your new dormitory." She explained with a small smirk on her face. Upon seeing that almost all ten students were about to bombard her with questions, she cut them off firmly. "No questions now. I'll explain when we get there." The walk to their new common room and dorms was familiar to all students gathered, but no one was paying much attention to where they were going; much preferring to whisper excitedly amongst themselves of what could await them.

"I bet they built a whole new annex on the grounds or something for us." The optimistic Susan Bones whispered to her two friends, Lavender and Hannah.

"No, they've probably just converted an unused classroom. They wouldn't waste all that time, energy and space on only ten people." Hannah said, her logical side shining through. "One of them being a Death Eater." She added in a conspiratorial whisper. But Draco, who was about 5 metres behind the girls-even further away from Potter's gang who were who were a good 30 metres away on the other side of the corridor-walking at a slow, sombre pace, still heard them. Draco grew even more irritated and angry than he was with Blaise on the train. He felt a pain in his back below his shoulder blades, as if something was trying to tear its way out from inside him-but it wasn't as if he hadn't experienced pain as bad or worse as he was right now. _'That should be them fucking wings' _Draco thought to himself as he remembered what his father told him and what he had read. He rolled his shoulders backwards, trying to relieve himself of the pain. '_They can't come out now. They just can't. What if I can't put them back when I want? What if someone sees?' _Thinking angry thoughts to himself about how unfair his life was when half the things he hated about himself weren't really his fault, just made him angrier. Soon, combined with the sensation of the wings trying to protrude from his back, his hands had started to feel as if they were getting hotter and hotter. Confused about his hands suddenly feeling like he was gripping a white-hot iron as if his life depended on it, he lifted them so that his palms were near his face. Red. They were completely red, as if he had stuck them in a pot of paint. And glowing. They were starting to glow. His hands felt like they were on fi-

'NO!' Draco's mind screamed as his eyes bugged out of his head at the accurate conclusion. Only in his mucked up life, should he be the Veela to acquire the rare trait of shooting fire from his hands. Still rolling his shoulders back, feeling only a fraction of the pain subdue, he also started breathing cold air on his hands in an attempt to cool then down. He could almost feeling the strange looks that Lavender's little gang were giving him as they looked over their shoulders. Them looking at him wasn't helping with controlling his anger- it only seemed to make it worse-but the pain was making him think more logically about it. If anger was causing him to grow wings and begin to throw fire, then calming down would be the best antidote for it. Closing his eyes, Draco began to picture in his mind, the delicious smelling Gryffindor robes that his mate was wearing. The pain in his back slowly stopped, but his hands felt a searing pain as if he had plunged a hot poker into a cold bucket of water-he was sure that he even heard his hands hiss and sizzle.

"How strange." He heard the Brown girl whisper, which was accompanied by giggles.

"Dark arts must've messed with his head. Can't say I'm surprised." Abbott replied just as quietly as she looked over her shoulder at him, for what must've been the fifth time.

"Freak." As soon as it left Lavenders mouth, as cliché as it may sound, the word bounced around in his head. It seemed to echo all around him and whisper tantalisingly in his ears until all he noticed was the hum of the word. The pain and burning sensation should've returned combined with renewed anger, but, oddly enough, he felt an unusual sense of calm. Suddenly it was as if Draco left his body and was looking into a broken pensive. Pieces of a long forgotten memory seemed to surface to the front of his mind. Only fragments of the whole thing though, like a movie reel that had been snapped and scattered. The images were somewhat unclear, and pieces of colour were missing in places, but what was prominent was the sound.

_"Freak! You're a freak, Dragon!" A scared voice came from the mouth of a small girl. White tears were trailing down the shadowed face of the girl as she stumbled backwards from a young Draco Malfoy. It seemed, in this particular memory, that Draco was the only thing that was completely in Technicolor. He quickly jumped to his feet from his place on the ground, opposite the crying shadow. _

_"No, wait please! Mia!" He cried, begging for her not to leave him. When the shadow-girl seemed to disappear, the little grey eyes of Draco looked down to the little primrose that was constructed out of blades of grass in his hand. _

When the older Draco saw that the grass primrose's petals were changing into vibrant red and the centre yellow, it was clear that the flower was constructed out of magic. _'Must've done magic in front of that Muggle.' _Draco reasoned to himself as that memory faded away and he returned to his place on Earth. That was the first time he'd been called a freak-and experienced a flashback quite like that one- and he had desperately tried to forget it, remembering the heartbreak that his young self had experienced because of it. The girl, though just a mere shadow in the memory, seemed to hold a familiar resemblance. He was tempted to believe it was because he knew her, more than the memory had suggested, but he knew it was a lie. From the reaction of the shadow, it looked as if the girl was a Muggle and if Draco remembered, he had had no great relationships with any Muggle. Shaking off all the strange feelings, he changed his posture to an intimidating one and his glared at the gang in front of him as they continued to whisper. Once they caught sight of him, they changed the subject of the conversation immediately and went back to talking about what the common room would be like. Draco smirked to himself, satisfied at their reaction to him.

"I hope it's not decked out in house colours. I mean, green and red? That's just too Christmas-y. Don't even get me started on how the other house colours will clash with each other's. Hopefully, McGonagall has some decorating sense." Lavender ranted. Although it was exactly what he wanted to get them talking back to what they were before, he wasn't really interested on what colours do and don't go together. Not that he didn't find it true about how none of the house colours actually went together, but he had had more than enough of his Mother talking about interior designing and he didn't need it from someone else.

After a couple more minutes, the ten 8th year students found themselves all grouped around McGonagall who was standing in front of a door. Taking in his surroundings for the first time, Draco's soul felt like it was being weighed down with lead. Here? Was the common room _here? _It looked different since he was last there, but he still knew where he was. He was sure that this was the place where it all kicked off; where everyone knew that war was coming. The Astronomy Tower. He was aware of the Headmistress saying something, but her voice was barely reaching his ears as he relived the night. His reverie didn't last long though, soon he was broken out of it as people behind him pushed past, or more like rudely shoving him out the way. Looking around, it seemed that Potter also wasn't moving. He stood only a couple of paces to the side of him, and seemed to be thinking of that night, the same as Draco was. Suddenly, Harry's head snapped to look at Draco. They held eye contact for a couple of seconds, though it seemed more like they were seeing which one of them could face up to their nightmares first, until Draco, not wanting to lose to Potter again, walked briskly past him and into the room just in time to catch a part of McGonagall's lecture.

"-badly damaged with curses, jinxes and other spells to the point that it would've taken longer to repair this Tower so that it's fit for Astronomy classes again, than to just build a new Tower. So we constructed a brand new Tower for class on the other side of the castle, and only when that was done and we were thinking about where we should put our few 8th years, did we change the Tower into this 8th year common room." McGonagall lectured as she led the 10 students into their new home for their last year. The Tower was shorter because of being practically demolished during the war, and so had far fewer steps to climb to enter the common room, which came as a treat to the 8th years who remembered being on the verge of passing out when they reached the top for Astronomy. It was still tall however, and the small balcony that was closed off by a sliding door overlooked the Forbidden Forest. Thankfully, the colour scheme wasn't a mixture of the four houses' colours, which would've looked very ugly indeed, but it was decked out like a log cabin with deep reds, greens and browns. The room had two burgundy loveseats, a rather large maroon sofa with matching armchairs and a roaring fireplace next to a lovely wooden table, which looked as if it could fit all ten of them around, and chairs. At the back corner of the common room, were different coloured doors built into the wall as the spiral staircase continued to lead upwards. The first one was a royal blue, and then a couple of steps away from that was an orange door that clashed horribly with the blue on its right and the forest green on its left. Then there was a lilac door, yellow, wooden, red, pink, white and the last one was black. McGonagall then got everyone to gather in a circle around her. To Harry, it reminded him of the First Task in the Tri-Wizard Tournament when all the champions had to choose their dragon from a bag similar to the one that McGonagall was brandishing in front of them now. "As I go around the circle you will all choose your key to your room. The colour of the key will match the colour of your door and all your things will be magically moved into there. Now, the keys are suited to different types of personalities but only I know which personalities the keys match to. There will be no way to trade keys with anyone else or duplicate them because it will only respond to you and your personality, understand? I must ask you that, when choosing your key, you pick the one that burns your hand. Don't worry, as soon as you pull it out of the bag, it'll stop burning. It's a little invention of mine." She added as she saw that Hermione was about to ask something. "Right then, you first Ms Abbott."

"There's no point in even picking, we all know who's going to get what." Draco commented dryly, making Hannah stop halfway through putting her hand in the bag.

"Please elaborate on your thoughts Mr Malfoy." McGonagall said making it clear that there was no way that Draco could just refuse to speak his mind.

"It's clear that Weasley will get orange-it matches his hair after all. Blaise will get green, for Slytherin. Bones will get yellow, for Hufflepuff. Patil will get blue, for Ravenclaw. Granger's will be red, for Gryffindor's little Princess. Brown will get the wooden one because she's as clever as. Potter will get the white one, as a sign for the light side for which he fought with. Longbottom, well, he'll get the pink one because he's a pansy. Well, maybe not anymore, but still. And Abbott will get the purple one because that's the only girly colour left." He stated as if it was obvious. Nevertheless, as the others thought about it, they had to admit to themselves that it made a lot of sense. "And me, I'll be getting the black one for my role on the dark side." He finished bitterly with a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"Well Mr Malfoy, we'll have to see if it plays out like that. Now, is there anything else you have to say, or can we continue on?"

"By all means Professor, begin."

Hannah gingerly stuck her hand in the bag and withdrew it only a second later so quickly that the key went flying onto the armchair behind them. McGonagall peered over Hannah's shoulder as she went to go collect the key and mentally congratulated herself that the personality keys were working perfectly. "Pink. That'll be the eighth door up. Ms Bones, your turn now." Even more cautiously than Hannah did before her, Susan placed her hand in the bag and after a while of rummaging about and a hiss of pain, found her key. "Green. That'll be the third door. Ms Brown, you next." And it continued like that until all ten of them had picked their keys; Lavender: orange, Hermione: red, Neville: Lilac, Draco: black, Padma: yellow, Harry: blue, Ron: wooden and Blaise got the white key. "See there Mr Malfoy, it seems the only predictions you got right were yours and Miss Grangers; some you got jumbled up and others were completely wrong." She said smugly as she threw in a knowing look at Draco. "Oh, and I'll be needing to talk with you. Don't worry-" Hannah who shrieked as her key dropped to the floor interrupted her.

"Professor! Something's wrong with my key!" Unable to form any more words, she pointed to the key on the floor. The bright pink key was rattling on the ground as parts of it twisted, widened and shrunk into different shapes. The Professor didn't do anything, for a while apart from stand there and look as it happened.

"Nothing to worry about that, it'll happen to everybody's soon. I just forgot about that part. The key will also transform into an animal representative of you-still in its colour-it'll most likely be your Patronus. It'll move as well, so when that happens, there's nothing to be worried about. Ah, here, see. A mole, Miss Abbott, if I'm not mistaken." McGonagall said as she bent down to pick up and placed it in Hannah's palm. Lavender and Susan immediately rushed to Hannah's side when the Professor moved away, to see the pink animal in her hand.

"Oh, oh, look! It's happening to mine now!" Susan bounced excitedly as she watched her key that was laid on her palm. The transformation happened quicker than Hannah's and once it was complete; Susan was looking confused at the animal on her palm.

"What is it Susan?" Hermione asked curiously from the other side of the room.

"It's a... squirrel?" She asked herself. "A green squirrel?"

"Maybe if you give it some nuts, it'll stop looking so sick." Lavender joked. Draco was just about to zone out completely, his eyes focused on Lavender, Hannah and Susan's little conversation, when McGonagall approached him. She looked him up and down, before staring directly into his stormy, grey eyes while he raised a perfect blonde eyebrow at her.

"Follow me Mr Malfoy. There's something we need to talk about, away from anyone who might listen in. Besides, I'm sure you wouldn't say no to a visit to your Godfather." She said briskly as she walked quickly out of the Tower and down the corridor, Draco trailing behind her, towards the Headmistress's office. They reached the office quickly, as it wasn't far away from the Tower, and she didn't waste any time in locking the door or sitting behind her desk. "Let's not waste any pleasantries Mr Malfoy, I know of your transformation during the holidays and the Minister of Magic plus the whole Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures have known since your birth."

Draco looked greatly put out by what he'd just been told, believing until then that only his family, plus the Seer and Blaise knew of his heritage but now was on the verge of sulking because it seemed that it was actually over a hundred people. "What is the purpose of this meeting, _Professor?"_He sneered.

"I don't know whether you realise, but the school is full of students with _eyes_Mr Malfoy, and you should be aware that a couple of those eyes caught your moment of weakness on the train. The purpose of this meeting is to tell you, that should a moment of weakness like that happen again on your way to class or during the weekend, the common room is designed to make any Veela magic you may be experiencing more... manageable."

"So, you're saying that, I go in there and I'll be able to get myself back in control? No jumping her, no...nothing?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. If your friend is strong enough to drag you back there that is; and if you do end up back at the common room, there's no need to worry about being in trouble for skipping class."

"Thank you Professor." Draco said sincerely. Subconsciously, his eyes travelled up the walls to see the portrait of the deceased potions master, ex-Headmaster and Godfather, sleeping. McGonagall followed his line of sight and smiled sadly at the portrait.

"I'm sorry for your loss; I know he was fond of you. I'm even sorrier that he's sleeping when you were probably expecting to be able to speak with him, but he of course also knew about your heritage and told me some brief information for me to pass onto you; after all, it's not my business but yours. He said that there will be information for you in the library about controlling your change of minds, I'm not really sure what that means but I have an idea you do. Either way, the library and its Magical Creature's books are for your complete use, including the ones in the Restricted Section." McGonagall stood up now, concluding the meeting. "I also don't know whether you noticed, but the wall outside the 8th years Tower is quite bare, unlike the other common rooms that have a portrait entrance; this one doesn't."

"Where is this conversation leading Professor?" Draco asked, now also standing up and walking towards the door, not liking the feeling of dread that started as soon as the next conversation subject did.

"I understand that the other 8th years aren't particularly fond of you Mr Malfoy, but when you get back to the Tower, tell the rest of them that as their 8th year project all of you are to construct a painting _together _to go as your portrait entrance. You all will be excused from the first two weeks mornings to complete this painting and I must see it when it's done. If it is not finished by then I'll have you all in detention for however long it takes for you to actually finish it." She left no room for objections as she firmly pushed him out her door and called, "There will be no ferreting out of this!" She smirked at him when she saw his bewildered face. "Check your key!" He heard her shut the door behind him and lock it as he walked down the steps. He sighed heavily. Draco could almost imagine the horror that'll become of the 8th year project. _'But, on the plus side,'_ Draco thought. _'If the painting goes horribly wrong, they could always pass it off as abstract or modern art.' _

When he reached the bare wall that McGonagall was talking about, he took a good long minute staring at it. When he first reached here, he was prepared to never go inside unless he had to, hating the memories, thoughts and feelings that plagued his being of that dreadful night where he dragged his body up the stairs, heavy with a burden he could not do; and all the nights after that at Malfoy Manor, where they dragged in a new prisoner nearly every evening. Now, Draco was looking at the brick wall and mahogany door as if it was some kind of heaven. And it was, for him. He could escape to here now to stop the Veela magic from controlling him, but the downside was that he had to be the person to keep his head out of the gutter for long enough that he had enough sense to return here as fast as he could. Blaise didn't seem like he was going to be crawling back to him anytime soon, more like the other way round; and Luna was only in her 7th year, she wouldn't have the same classes as him so she wouldn't be any help, thinking along the lines of that she would see the disaster that would happen if he was just left for his Veela to take over and get him back to the Tower. He reached inside his pocket and pulled out his key that had moulded itself into its animal while he was in the meeting with McGonagall. A ferret. "Bloody fantastic." He sneered to himself as the memories of 4th year formed in the front of his mind. _'At least I got the black door and not the white, otherwise looking at this thing would've been unbearable.' _He thought to himself as he stopped the black ferret from running around on his hand as he placed it back in his pocket and opened the door. _'Maybe the ferret is meant to mean something...I wonder what the relationship between weasels and ferrets are..."_

Everyone had seemed to have settled into their new common room nicely and, by the looks of things, had the House-Elves bring them something (probably against the will of Granger) to eat and had all had their dinner on the wooden table together, without waiting for Draco. Again, not like he expected them to. Hannah and Neville were on one of the loveseats together and Ron and Lavender occupied the other. Hermione seemed perfectly OK with it though, conversing happily with Susan at the dining table. Padma and Blaise were standing together by the sliding doors, talking as if they'd been friends for ages. Everyone was smiling, happy and as Draco was standing in the doorway unnoticed, Padma's laughter rang through the room. It made him quite bitter, seeing everyone happy and getting along with each other, when he was sure that only Blaise would even spare him a second glance. It sounded childish and selfish, he knew, but after ten minutes of just standing by the door and no one noticing that he had returned because they were took fucking happy with their lives, he just snapped and wanted to squash their happiness. If only a bit.

"Listen up!" He called into the common room with an authoritative drawl that grabbed everyone's attention. "There's a message from McGonagall that needs passing on to you lot."

"And why should we listen to what you have to say? You could be lying to us." Lavender Brown piped up, trying to sound as intimidating as she possibly could. Some of the others gave nods of agreements to her statement, while her boyfriend verbally made his thoughts known, and others just stayed quiet.

"Because if you waited to hear what I was going to tell you, then you'd realise that there'd be no reason for me to tell you something like that." Draco snapped.

"Well," Padma said impatiently. "What is it then?"

"She wants us to construct a painting together, and, if we don't have it done in two weeks time, we'll all be in detention until it is done."

"A painting? But I'm so bad at art!" Hermione said.

"What's the painting for?" Harry asked slowly.

"The painting, Potter, is for our portrait entrance. And, I don't care Mudblood whether you can or can't do art. We're all in this crap together and it doesn't matter whether it's good or not." A loud gasp came from the mouth of Hermione and everyone in the room turned silent. Tension that never used to be there suddenly built up until it was suffocating them. Quickly, Hermione picked her key up from the table and ran to her room, slamming the red door behind her. As soon as she left, wands were about to be drawn from her long-time friends, but to them it seemed that someone had already gotten him with a powerful hex. Draco was doubled over, groaning in anguish, and his hand was on top of his heart as if it might relieve him of any pain.

"Zabini." Draco ground out, as for the second time that day, his vision started to be clouded with colourful spots. He could almost sense that the tension in the room had abated to satisfaction and confusion, although some of the previous anger still remained. He heard the loud footfalls of Blaise come towards him, but the closer they got, the quieter they were.

And then, Draco passed out.

* * *

**A/N-Phew! That took a lot of planning. I had to think exactly who should get which door, who should be predicted what door in relevance to who actually got it among other things like what colour goes with what personality and animals etc. I tried my best to match colours with personalities, but I don't think it's entirely right or good? Is this chapter ****_even good?_****Rushed? I don't think it's my favourite. If there's any mistakes tell me!**

**And, how do you think they make the moving pictures? With some sort of magic paint, do they have to say a spell, paint with their wand? Any ideas?**

**Oh well...**

**P.S, I was going to write a snippet of the next chapter, but wasn't sure how to do it. Like just put in what seems like random bits of speech, or just a paragraph that might sort of spoil it a bit. I don't know. How do you want it written?**

**That was a long note... **


	7. Somewhere Over the Metaphorical Rainbow

**A/N-This is going to be quite a rambling note, you don't really have to read it.**

I decided to incorporate a bit more humour into this chapter because the others have had a lot more drama than I planned. You have to go through some more drama at the beginning though to get to the humour. I don't even really know why, but I found this chapter a bit difficult to write and I made the revelation come a bit sooner than I also planned...Also, as a warning, I think the characters might be a little more OOC and I think this chapter might be rushed again.

**You know, I'm not even sure why I named the chapter this...**

**Enjoy! :)**

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"Draco," Said Blaise as he shook Draco's body, seeing that he seemed to be stirring. "Draco! Wake up!"

Draco groaned and tried to roll over, away from Blaise, but found that he ached and hurt too much to do anything but open his eyes. However, when he did so, the blinding light that filled the room also hurt them. After his eyes adjusted to the light, he opened them fully to see the face that accompanied the voice he knew since childhood. Looking around, he saw that he was lying on a bed in one of the rooms-either Blaise's or his. The wall closest to the bed had been completely taken out and replaced with a large window where the daylight was streaming through; that was the only main difference from the common room and the bedroom though, everything else was roughly the same except it didn't have as many chairs or the dining table. He wondered whether all the bedrooms looked like this one. "Draco, you OK?" Blaise asked concerned.

"Ugh, that was some pretty strong hex. Only a couple of hours I've been out I presume?" He said, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Mate, that wasn't any hex-" Blaise said slowly, trying to make him understand that nothing of the sort actually happened. Once Draco had passed out, before he dragged him into his bedroom, Blaise asked everyone if they'd done anything-even as going as far as threatening them with his wand-but they said that he passed out before they even had a chance. Whilst waiting in his room for Draco to wake up, Blaise spent his time thinking about Draco and his..._Veela problem._ Not that Draco knew, and Blaise intended to keep it that way, but he saw Draco in his moment of weakness on the train when he started professing his love to Ginny. Just as Draco did, Blaise believed that to be a plausible answer especially in the way that he acted around her, but something just didn't add up-no matter how well Ginny fit with the prophecy. _'If it was Ginny'_, he had thought, _'Then there shouldn't be a reason for him to just go into agony and then pass out.' _He eventually concluded that it wasn't Ginny-no matter what Draco may or may not think-because the reaction he had was too big to be overlooked, and it wasn't as if he insulted or hurt Ginny. _'It was Granger,_' he thought. On top of that, thanks to Draco, Blaise finally figured out what the last line meant. He called Hermione the Gryffindor _Princess. _That's what the prophecy meant, he believed, it was referring to their titles. Draco was the Prince and Hermione was the Princess-it fit perfectly. He wasn't going to tell Draco though; no way would be bounce back that quickly. Blaise was stubborn and even if Draco asked for his help once more, it didn't automatically mean that he'd just confess his findings. He thought it'd be particularly amusing just to play along to Draco's thoughts, only himself knowing the true Mate and just wait for the faithful day when he realises that it's not Ginny at all. Of course, something also didn't add up to why he thought it was Ginny. A Veela was only meant to be that attracted to the scent of his mate, and if it were Hermione, then there'd be no logical reason for him to jump Ginny like that...

Draco's life was getting too complicated and dramatic.

"Yes it was. I saw them with their wands out, wanting to avenge Granger. They hexed me-no question about it. I guess it must've been Potter or Weasley." Draco interrupted firmly. He probably also knew that he was lying because, deep down, he knew the _real_ reason to a reaction like that but didn't want it to be true, or was so hooked on the thought that it's Ginny he was completely disregarding it.

Blaise sighed, but didn't protest anymore knowing that Draco'd only become more stubborn. "About a day and a half, I guess." He answered. Draco slowly nodded because it hurt to do much of it. "I'll let you borrow some of my robes in here, only because you're too weak to make it to your room. And be quick, Potter's ordered everyone downstairs-he wants us to start the painting as early as we can, so we have it finished in the least amount of days." Blaise made his way to the door and was about to exit and go downstairs to tell everyone that Draco had woken up and be joining them soon, but stopped when Draco spoke.

"Blaise," He said slowly. "Thanks, for your offer and bringing me here. You didn't-_don't_ have to, you're not meant to be helping me. But, I've realised that I kind of need some help-if you had just left me on the floor, they would've taken the opportunity to eradicate the 'Death Eater scum'." It was hard for Draco to admit any of this, but he did mostly for his benefit and gain and he was sure Blaise knew that-well, most of the reasons why at least. What he didn't know was that Draco needed to have him to drag him back to the common room, should something go wrong. He'd only rationally thought about how he would get himself back by himself before he passed out, and realised that it was a stupid thought to think that he could do it. "Being the Veela expert that you are, I know that you know that the only reason that I snapped at you like that was because I seem to have a shorter fuse now." Draco joked.

"I know Draco, but you need to try and control your anger. Don't want to be snapping at everyone or sprouting wings every five minutes do you? I'll help you as much as _I _can, but there are some things that I can't help you with which you have to by yourself." I only smiled and nodded at him as I got out of bed. He left the room and Draco started to get changed into Blaise's Slytherin robes-luckily they were roughly the same size. Just as he was about to put his shirt on, he notice that the numbers hadn't changed by just two- like he stubbornly believed that they should've- but by nine.

"276 days left." He sighed to himself as he shrugged the shirt on. "The equivalent to nine months." He got dressed quickly after that and jogged down the stairs, feeling back to normal albeit a bit confused, angry and annoyed at the sudden change of time and how suddenly 9 months didn't feel like nearly enough time.

* * *

"-Canvas for the painting. It, of course, must take up the whole canvas but it can be a painting of whatever the _group _agrees on. It can be completed in any way you want, but everyone must have at least one part in the production of it. The finished product will not be judged by the quality of the artwork, but whether it was a group effort or not. This must be done by the 18th." Draco just caught the end of Hermione's speech as he finished the last of the few steps of the staircase, but saw that she was reading from a note and everyone was standing around a large, square, white canvas that was lying on the floor. "Well, that's all the note says."

"Easy enough." Ron shrugged. When everyone heard Draco jump off the last step, they all turned around to face him and just started at him (with the exception of Blaise, who shuffled slightly to the side for Draco to stand next to him) as if he had murdered someone. Hermione fixed him with the hardest glare in the room as he avoided everyone's eyes and just quietly stood next to Blaise. No one continued talking though and although he'd never show it, the stares were beginning to make him feel uneasy. Lifting his head up, he met every one of their gazes; looking at Hermione for the longest. Some of them stopped staring after that, but most continued.

"_Please_," Draco sneered. "Don't let me interrupt. Continue." When the rest of the eyes looked away and refocused on the Golden Trio, Blaise nudged him warning him to calm himself in case something happened.

"Well, what do you guys want to paint?" Harry asked, looking around the room. Everyone was quiet, some even not wanting to meet his eyes.

"I thought that we could do it of the Battle of Hogwarts-you know, at the end. Like a victory scene." Neville said sheepishly, as if he thought that his idea was going to be immediately rejected and ridiculed.

"I think we should stay away from war." Padma commented.

"Yeah, this is like a new beginning; we shouldn't focus on the past." Hannah agreed.

"These are a bunch of hypocrites." Draco whispered to Blaise, to which he nodded, understanding that what his friend said was true.

"OK, no war." Harry summarised. "We need a bit more to work with though, anything else?"

"What about something that symbolises a new beginning or something?" Susan suggested.

"Like what?" Ron asked.

"Um...I don't know."

Hermione gasped, and then started squealing in a happy manner. Draco's eyes unconsciously flickered towards where Hermione was, concerned about her sanity. "Oohh! What about-oh there's this play called The Wizard of Oz and it's got this scene in it with a twister and-oh it'll just be perfect!"

"English Granger." Draco drawled, giving her a pointed look. Looking around her, she saw that almost everyone was giving her the same confused looks, even Harry.

She fixed a glare onto Draco, but continued anyway for the benefit of everyone else. "Right. In the Muggle world there's a thing called the theatre-I won't go into what that is now-but there's a play called The Wizard of Oz-I won't explain what it's about either-and there's a twister scene where it picks up the house that Dorothy is in and takes her over the rainbow into a magical land. I think that we should do the twister scene, like half as the gloomy storm bit where the twister is, and the other half as a colourful, bright land."

After Hermione finished speaking, Lavender, who was to the right of Draco, let out an equally excited squeal. "I love that play; it also makes a great film! I've seen it so many times! Hermione, it's perfect for our portrait." She gushed, clapping her hands together.

"Sounds brilliant 'Mione," Ron complimented, whole-heartedly agreeing with his girlfriend. The nickname made Draco cringe; it was truly awful, he believed, and if they were really good friends, they could have come up with a better one. "Any objections to that?" Everyone was completely silent and nodding along to the idea; some even had small grins appearing as they pictured it, but most were still remotely confused and interested in the Muggle part behind it. "OK then, so no more ideas? This is the one that we're going with?" Everyone silently nodded again, while Draco rolled his eyes at everything that was happening: The authority that was suddenly handed to the Golden Trio just because they were the saviours and had a reasonable amount of leadership skills; not that any of that really mattered or was any sort of election. It was just stupid. And this 8th year project? That was even worse; Draco didn't want to spend any more time with the people that he hated than was necessary between coming here between classes, for the night and for escape from his Veela senses.

"Bloody great," Draco said sarcastically, attracting everyone's attention because of the silence. "We just going to stand here then and waste the first day? Or are we going to get this piece of crap started so I don't have to see all of _you _more than I need to."

"No one's stopping you from leaving Malfoy." Ron snarled.

"Actually Weasley, the Headmistress is. See, I don't know whether you're family educated you that well for you to know the meaning of some words, but basically in Weasel language the note that Granger so _politely _read out says that, _I have go to help or we'll all get a detention." _Ron started to turn red at the jab at his family from Malfoy again, but before a fight could break out, much to the disappointment of the others, Harry intervened.

"Well then Malfoy, if you're so eager to get started, why don't you take over then?" He indicated the large blank canvas and crossed his hands over his chest.

"If only it was that simple Potter," He said mockingly. "I don't whether you realise during all that time you were running about the school 'proclaiming' your-" Before Draco could continue and insult even more people that might end up in him being attacked, just like Harry, Blaise intervened.

"What he means is that, he would, you know, if he hadn't lived in the Wizarding World all his life and had never touched anything _Muggle,_" Blaise amended. "I'm sure you know what I'm talking about; it only seems that Granger and Brown know what they're on about. They should take lead." Everyone surveyed him coolly before Harry and Ron nodded to what he was saying.

"Alright then Hermione, start."

"But I told you all the other day, I _can't _draw." Hermione stressed.

"McGonagall said that it's not going to be judged on quality Hermione, it's fine. Just start." Hannah encouraged, waiting what she was going to do eagerly.

"I know but-" She sighed. "Lavender, I've seen you-you can draw. Why don't you take over?"

"I would, but...I don't really like art that much. You're the Brightest Witch, so I'm sure you can do it yourself." Lavender said as she walked over to Ron and hung on his arm.

"Just someone do something!" Padma snapped getting annoyed.

"Granger, stop being a whiny little princess and start!" Draco groaned.

"No! I can't! I won't!" She protested. "If I can't do something properly then I won't do it at all!"

"Hermione, honestly, it's OK. I can't draw well either." Susan tried to reason with her.

"Yeah, I'm not even-" Lavender's lie was cut off by one glare from Hermione who was fuming.

"You don't get it, this is the only thing that I-I-" Hermione stopped, unable to continue. Her eyes were practically filled with tears because of her nervous breakdown.

"It's nothing to worry about," Neville consoled softly. "No one can do everything."

Draco was about to open his mouth to boast about how he could actually do everything; it ranged from getting just as high marks as Hermione to growing wings and throwing fire out of his hands-even drawing-but he was cut off by Ron. "Come on Hermione, it's not that bad. It's not as if you're going to be drawing it all yourself; you're just going to be starting it."

"Exactly. Just a rough plan, you know 'Mione?" Harry said causing Draco to cringe again.

"Fine! Lavender help me." She said.

"Erm, no? I already said that I wasn't going to."

"We're not getting anywhere." Blaise muttered to Draco.

"Tell me about it." He whispered back.

"But Lavender, you _have to _help! I can't-" Hermione whined before she was interrupted.

"Honestly Granger, you say that you can't draw one more time-," Draco growled, pressing his palm to his head because of an oncoming headache.

"I'm not going to. I won't." Lavender said, shaking her head.

"But I can't draw!"Hermione.

"Look, you're the only one that's seen this stupid Muggle thing! You have to give us an idea of what it looks like! Just do something-anything!" Ron snapped, finally getting annoyed at their lack of progress and Hermione's whining.

"That's not true! Lavender's seen it before too! She can just get away with not doing anything because she's your girlfriend!" She protested.

"You can't expect me to do everything! I'm not some sort of Leonardo DiCaprio!" Lavender cried.

"Leonardo Di-what?! Lavender, he's the actor-Leonardo Da Vinci is the painter." Hermione was starting to sound frustrated.

"Ugh! You know what, when you all have finally stopped arguing, stopped whining and decided to get some work done, come get me. That's only _if _you all get your acts together before our afternoon classes!" Padma snapped, turning around sharply and storming her way over to the staircase. Her outburst caused a sudden chain reaction; Hermione started whining again, causing Draco, Blaise and some others to groan whilst everyone else started arguing about whether they agree with Padma or not. The some that did agree had begun to turn around and follow her up the stairs, but before anything like that could happen, the sound got too much for Draco's improved hearing and he put a stop to it.

"SHUT YOUR _BLOODY_ MOUTHS!" Draco yelled, stunning everyone into science. "Good. Now you, Patil, get back here. I'm going to take over now and we'll actually get shit done because I use my head," He took a few breaths to calm himself before his wings and fire made a reappearance. "We're not going to get any painting or drawing or_ whatever_ done today because _some people_ are being difficult, so as much as I hate it and the thought of it, we're going to have to do teamwork. Now, Granger, Brown, you said that this Blizzard of-"

"_Wizard of Oz."_ Hermione corrected sternly.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You said that it's a-a, um...play? That's at a beer...-"

"A play that's preformed in a _theatre_ and is also a film, just in case we have to wait for you to figure out what it's called again."

"Anyway, if we go get this theatre then we can have an idea of what we're doing and don't have to leave it up to these two." He said gesturing to Hermione and Lavender. Hermione and Lavender started snickering, quickly forgetting their argument and nervous breakdown from earlier, to find amusement in Draco's lack of Muggle knowledge. "What's so funny?" Draco asked, fixing them both with a glare.

"You can't _get _a theatre Malfoy. You go there and you watch people perform it." Lavender corrected him this time.

"And I can't really imagine Neville coming to a Muggle theatre and blending in, never mind you or Zabini. I don't think it's really an option. But," Hermione said beginning to grin slightly. "I think we could go get the film and find some way for us to use Muggle technology in Hogwarts..."

"That sounds like a plan." Harry said clapping his hands together happily.

"Well, what now then? Nothing?" Padma asked, stepping down from the first step and crossing her arms.

"No, now we need to figure out some charms that allow Muggle technology. Padma, you can help me with that. You too Susan, and Hannah, I hear you're brilliant at it." Hermione said, suddenly taking control again.

"Hey, Draco and I are just as good." Blaise said. Well, really, that was a bit of a lie. Yes, Draco was just as brilliant at charms as the three girls were, but Blaise wasn't. Blaise, also like Draco, excelled in potions, but he was going to keep that a secret. He just wanted to get Draco out of the Tower with Hermione, because, although it hadn't been revealed to him, Blaise suspected that there were some charms in place in the Tower to stop any magic from magical creatures, because Draco hadn't jumped Hermione yet. Blaise was needing a laugh and watching Draco not be able to control himself again,-this time in front of more people-was promising to be hilarious from Blaise's point of view.

"No offence to you two, but I don't really think that you'd be...interested to being with us and everything." She sneered, heading out the door with Susan, Padma and Hannah on her trail.

"Since you came up with idea Malfoy," Ron started, not sounding at all pleased. "You should be in charge." He just about managed to force the words through his gritted teeth.

"Though it pains me, I pass my authority over to Blaise because I have bigger fish to fry other than just watching you paint a picture." Draco said, holding his heart in mock heartbreak, though the entire time he was speaking, he was serious. It was true; he did have bigger fish to fry. He had to convince Ginny to leave Harry and be with him before nine months was up, and knowing how stubborn the redhead was, he'd need to use most of that nine months. He also needed to visit the library to get that book that his Godfather told McGonagall about; although she didn't know what he meant, Draco certainly did and decided that even before he could confront Ginny again, he'd have to control his change of minds outside the Tower.

"OK then, we'll need whatever that thing is that you watch a film on and the film. I'll put that up to you Brown and your Weasel can help. Everyone else, do what you want." Blaise said and followed Draco out the door. Apparently, he needed to go to the library. Blaise smirked, unbeknownst to Draco, him and Hermione were quite a bit more alike than they'd care to admit-and because of the fact that that was exactly where Hermione was. Blaise couldn't wait...


	8. Confusion Of a Teenage Part-Veela

**A/N- Ah ha! So I've come out of my writers block! Thanks to everyone you commented or PM me with ideas, they, combined for your love of this story inspired me to write this chapter(although it's a bit of a filler...)**

**This was known as ****_'Draco Malfoy: Making Library Trips Interesting Since He Came Into His Inheritance' _****but that title was too long.**

**Some Blaise bashing going on in this one. I'm just going to say sorry now for the crap fight scene...**

Anyway, I don't want another long note...

**So here it is!**

* * *

"You go on ahead mate, there's no reason for me to go in there. It's your book after all." He said as he lent against the wall next to the library door and crossed his arms. Draco sighed heavily and seemed to mutter things about Blaise under his breath as he pushed open the door and stepped in. Blaise smirked. He could see Hermione, Hannah and Susan all gathered around a bookshelf by a table laden with books about Charms, Potions and Magical Painters of the 12th Century. _'This is going to be entertaining,'_ Blaise thought to himself. Draco seemed to freeze in the doorway as he took in the flowery scent that he had smelt the other day on the train; but Blaise wasn't having any of that, as he placed a hand on Draco's back and shoved him forward, closing the door behind him.

Draco wasn't sure what the book probably said about controlling the change of minds, but he felt as if by instinct that it must have something to do with putting up a good mental fight about who he wanted to stay in control. And that was exactly what he was trying to do, although it was giving him a bloody horrible headache. He wasn't even sure why his Veela was trying to take over, Ginny wasn't in there and apart from a couple seventh years and Hermione, Susan and Hannah, the library was completely empty. Not even Madam Pince was sitting behind her desk or re-arranging the books on the shelves. With a pounding head, he still tried to stay in control as he stumbled towards the bookshelf on Magical Creatures. The further away he went from the Charms side of the room (where Hermione's group was) the calmer his headache got, but it still felt as though somebody was bashing a brick against his skull; it was while this was happening that he wished that he could just pass out again to save him the pain. As soon as he got to the bookcase, he picked up the first book that he saw (_Dragons From Around the World_) and began to whack the hardback book against his head. He didn't feel any pain coming from the book; it didn't intensify his headache, nor did it quell it for whatever reason. When he realised that he was just tiring himself out, Draco promptly stopped and flicked open the book-not even bothering to look at the title-and began to read about the Welsh Green. He wasn't able to understand anything that he was reading though, because his headache was messing with his thoughts and just getting worse as if it was demanding his attention and he do something about it. He placed the book back, closed his eyes and tried to give his frame of minds the attention that they were demanding of him. He shook his head, as if the thoughts were going to fall into the right order, and took deep breaths, which only intensified his headache as his nostrils became even more filled with the sultry smell.

He had only sorted himself out for a couple of seconds, before someone else entered the library and made the air smell so strongly of his Mate that it felt as if it was suffocating him. He was practically clawing at his throat, trying to relieve himself, as he slid down the bookshelf to the floor, gasping for breath. Draco was stubborn-very much so-but trying to stay in his Wizard frame of mind was getting too tiring. If giving in meant that his headache left and the air in the room was suddenly less suffocating, then he was past trying to stop his Veela taking over. He shook his head once, quietly laughing bitterly, and before he gave up, he took the time to listen to what was going on around him.

_'Is that Malfoy?'_

'...Told you he was good looking...'

'...Back this year.'

'...What everyone else thinks?'

'Why is he on the floor?'

'...Is he doing?'

_'If they're wondering what I'm doing now, they'll be even more intrigued in a minute.' _He thought to himself. Sitting on the floor, he slowly gave in to instincts and felt his sanity slip away. Once his Wizard was long gone, he felt peaceful and calm again and he had to wonder why he didn't want to change in the first place if it felt this nice. Then, when his body picked itself up and started to walk towards the tables in the middle of the room, he remembered exactly why. Panicking, he forced himself to stop; but to the outside viewer it looked more like someone in an invisibility cloak was holding onto his legs so he couldn't move. His black eyes looked around the room and landed on Ginny, who was frozen on the spot on the opposite side of the room, looking like a deer in the headlights. She backed away slowly and ran down to the corner furthest away from Draco and his penetrating stare. His eyes followed her the entire way there, but as they passed over Hermione, they seemed to get fixed onto where she was sitting. He was sure that she felt his eyes on her, and when she looked up from her book and made eye contact with him, it took all his strength to tear his eyes away after a few seconds. His body was still facing her even if his eyes weren't looking (he instead chose to focus on Ginny who was ducking behind a bookshelf), and his nose was picking the delicious smell once more but it was coming from the complete opposite direction of Ginny. He didn't need to move his eyes to know who was ahead of him, he very clearly remember having only broken eye contact with her a minute ago. He was more drawn to this smell though it was the same as Ginny's, it felt purer and a lot more natural. He wanted to go to it, but he was forcing himself not to move. It was Granger after all and that wasn't right; he should be going the other direction to Ginny. Two sides of his mind was arguing with each other about where he wanted to go, if one side tried to make him move, the other would stop him. His headache was back but this time, other than it feeling like a herd if Hippogriffs were stomping on his head, his head was spinning. His hands flew to his head and tugged at his blonde hair as if it'd help and made loud groans of frustration. His blood felt like it was burning red-hot and he knew he needed to calm down, before he completely lost what little control he had.

_'You want to go over to Hermione.'_

_'It's Granger not Hermione and no I don't. I want to go over to Ginny.'_

_'Why do you want to go over to Weaslette when Hermione smells much better?'_

_'It's Ginny not Weaslette, and I just said that it's Granger not Hermione.'_

_'It doesn't matter what you call Hermione, she's still better smelling than the runt of the Weasley family!'_

_'It's some kind of trick! Ginny told Granger about what happened on the train, remember over hearing their conversation? She must've come up with a plan to throw me off her trail and got Granger to help. She couldn't say no to her friend. I'm not stupid, I know exactly what they're trying to do and it won't work!'_

_'Like Weaslette even knows you're a Veela. Unless she knows, she wouldn't come to the conclusion of throwing you off her scent.'_

_'She probably does. Didn't her older brother marry a quarter one anyway?'_

_'Go to Hermione.' _

_'Go to Ginny.'_

_'Hermione.'_

_'Ginny.'_

His blood was boiling now, and he could feel the pain that told him his wings were trying to come out. It was just too much for him; the scent, the two of them, being cursed with being a Veela- everything._ 'It has to be a trick; my mate could never be bloody Granger.'_ Draco stubbornly repeated in his head like a mantra, ignoring the glowing or heat coming from his hands. He was so much in his head, Draco didn't notice two whisky coloured eyes looking at him. The scene in front of Hermione was an odd one; to her it looked like Draco was having a mental breakdown in the library. Her eyes saw his face and could tell he was in pain but also saw anger. Her eyes looked around the room to see what could have caused it and she was met with the eyes of Ginny.

* * *

I was looking through the glass window of the library door, watching Draco as he tried to fight off his instincts. It was quite amusing to say the least, all he had to do was stop fighting it and he'd be with Hermione in no time, but of course, he was too stubborn for that to happen. I felt a small amount of pity for him when I saw him pick up a random book and start attacking his head with it. It looked rather painful and hard, if it were anyone else I was sure that they'd have been unconscious by now. My attention, however, was suddenly drawn away from Draco when I caught a strong whiff of perfume.

"Weaslette," I said smirking as I saw her drop her hand from the doorknob and turn to face me. So she was going to go into the library? I predict that sometime in the near future there's going to be a very confused Veela. I wasn't worried though, surely his Veela was smart enough to know that it wasn't really Weaslette; moreover, I don't think he could hold off the strength that his Veela mind possessed for much longer. Besides, it wasn't as if she even smelt like Granger, although I wasn't even sure how Draco managed to mistake her for his Mate in the first place.

"Yes?" She said, annoyance in her tone.

"You wearing enough perfume there? Going to suffocate everyone in the library with it?" I drawled sarcastically.

"Shut up," She snapped. "It's not mine anyway. I rather liked the smell so I decided to wear it-not that it's any of your business."

"Weasley's been stealing, eh? Whose is it then?"

"Why should I tell you?" She placed her hand back onto the doorknob and made to open it, but before she could fully, I threw my weight on to the door, keeping it closed.

"Because, there's no way you're getting in there unless you do."

"Look Zabini, I have a lot of work to get done before I go to my next class. I am in no mood to play games."

"So just answer me and you'll be able to get your work done."

"Fine," She chirped with false cheerfulness. "It's Hermione's. Happy?"

"G-Granger's?" I spluttered. "How did you get into the common room?"

"The common room? I didn't need to get in there. I borrowed it off her yesterday." So she smells like Granger now, but how did she smell like her on the train? This was going to confused Draco even more than she was already. "I've answered two of your pointless questions now. I think it's your turn to hold up your end of the bargain. Let me in." I huffed in annoyance and moved away from the door to let her in. Draco was going to be confused, but it could still be funny. Unless, he started to get angry...

Moving back to the door's window, I watched Draco and his reaction to Ginny entering the library. He seemed to be going more crazed since the smell had doubled. I watched as he sunk to the floor in what seemed like defeat. Next thing I knew, he was up again and staring at Weaslette, who ran away from him in terror-probably not wanting to relive the train ride. He started to tug at his hair and any idiot could tell that this was a sign of frustration, and what came with frustration was...anger. From my view of his back, I could see the smallest of bumps forming from underneath his shoulders. "Wings..." I muttered to myself. Before even looking at his glowing hands, I knew that this had gone far enough. I may be feeling selfish to him at the moment, but I wasn't this selfish to let him just transform in front of anyone. I was making up a quick plan about how best to remove him from this tricky situation, but that all fell apart when I saw Granger approaching him. Without a second thought, I threw open the door and shoved her out of the way. I knew that if someone so much as shoved her out of the way, his Wizard side wouldn't so much as stand a chance of staying in control, and I knew that Granger being attacked meant that his Veela would first and foremost want to exact revenge before returning to her.

* * *

"Help me get out of here." Ginny mouthed to Hermione, looking panic-stricken. She nodded her head. Ginny was right about Malfoy going mental, but before she entered the library he seemed perfectly fine and normal-albeit whacking a book against his head. She slowly slipped out of her seat and cautiously approached him. She had only made it a couple of steps towards him, when the library door slammed open. She whipped round to see who it was but all she saw was some black robes before she was thrown out the way. She landed awkwardly on the floor, but luckily, she didn't break nor sprain anything. Suddenly a roar sounding quite close to her made her snap her head towards Draco. What she saw made her compare it to two wild animals. Blaise and Draco were continuously latching on to each other and were trying to throw them on the floor or gain the upper hand to gain control. Books toppled off the bookshelves as they slammed into them, but neither seemed to take notice; not even when a particularly heavy tome hit and cut the side of Blaise's head. In one false move though, Blaise was grabbed by the front of his robes and thrown on the floor. He didn't stay down long as Draco roughly pulled him back up by his robes again and started speaking over the hiss of pain that was coming from Blaise's mouth. Hermione couldn't hear what he was saying; all she could make out was that it was a dark, low voice that held promises of carrying out any threat that might've been said. Blaise didn't take it as threatening, instead as soon as Draco seemed to pause; he seemed to rile him up more. He put his hands on his chest and pushed him backwards. Draco faltered slightly and Blaise was able to free himself from his grip. Pushing him back more so he stumbled into the bookshelf, Blaise sounded like he was whispering menacing things back to him. This got Draco angrier than his previously was, but Blaise was laughing and walking backwards towards the door as Draco stalked towards him.

"If you know what's good for you Granger, you'll stay down and mention this to no one." He hissed as he passed her on the floor as she was starting to get up. He then raised his voice, "Or I might just have to Obliviate you!" Hermione knew he was joking by the playful tone in his voice, but she stayed down purely for the reason she didn't want to be caught in the middle of their fight. At that point, Blaise turned around and ran out the door, followed by Draco; who as soon as Blaise opened the door, jumped on him and tackled him to the floor outside the library. Blaise kicked the door shut and the last thing anyone in the library saw was Blaise throwing Draco off him and rolling away.

* * *

Draco immediately tried to attack me, but I fought back admirably because there was no way that I was just going to let myself get beat up. When a large hard-covered book hit my head, it made me confused and I moved too slowly and clumsily to grab the front of Draco's robes, and before I knew it, I'd been slammed onto the floor on top of the large book that cut my head. I groaned in pain, but Draco wasn't going to leave me there without injuring me badly. He picked me up so that my heels were off the ground, but his hands were so hot, they were going right through my robes and burning my skin. I hissed in pain, but Draco was too far gone to see that his friend was hurting.

"You hurt her?" He growled darkly. It didn't sound like an accusation though, more like a statement. Of course he knew that it was I who shoved her, he saw me coming towards them after all. "I'm going to kill you. By the time I'm done with you, you won't see the light of another day. How _dare_ you touch what is _mine! _You could've hurt her! You could've broken what belongs to me!"

"But she's not even yours yet, is she? You don't even think it's her, do you? You think it's Ginny Weasley." I stated smugly. His threats made me nervous, but I wouldn't let weakness show. He seemed to falter slightly at the truth of what I just said; I took this to my advantage and started to push him backwards until he hit the bookshelf, which made him lose the strong hold he had on the collar of my robes and I managed to free myself. "So, tell me, is it Granger or is it the youngest Weasley? Tell me Draco-who is it really? Tell me now mate, or I might just date the wrong one. Granger looks pretty tempting." The angry look on his face was priceless and had me laughing, but it also struck a small amount of terror. I backed away from him, knowing that he'd follow me and attack me again, for what I said. As I passed the spot where Granger was lying on the floor, I saw the she was weakly pulling herself back up; probably to separate the fight, to go back over to her friends, to leave, to get help? If she moved now she could get herself in trouble. ""If you know what's good for you Granger, you'll stay down and mention this to no one." I hissed to her making sure that she knew I was serious. It wouldn't be good for her to think that she could do whatever she wanted, especially if she didn't know what she was dealing with. "Or I might just have to Obliviate you!" I raised my voice at this, so that Draco could hear that I was threatening her, to get more of a reaction out of her. I turned and ran to the door as fast as I could and flung it open, but I didn't get much further than that as Draco tackled me to the floor. I kicked the door shut, so that no one from inside could see what was happening. I threw Draco off and rolled away from him, pulling my wand out of my robe pocket at the same time as I stood up, ready for the next attack. He lunged at me, but I dodged his attack with the finesse of a Chaser and shot a _Stupefy _at him, but it only just missed him as he lunged for me again. This time I was too slow at moving out of the way, and he threw me to the floor again. My head thudded against the stone floor and eyelids felt like they were drooping. I wiped away the blood that was trickling down my face and blurring my vision, and jumped to my feet, shooting another _Stupefy _at him that hit him square on the chest before he jumped on me again. The stunning spell slowed him down momentarily, but he still moved faster than other Wizards did. Using Draco's slowed speed to my advantage; I grabbed his arm and swung him to the floor. When his body hit the floor, it didn't make a thud like it did when I was thrown; it only made a noise a bit louder than a tap and it looked like that's all it felt like to him when he spent no time in picking himself up. I backed away quickly from the small flame that now flickered in his hands; the wings that were sprouting in his back looked like they were going to burst free any moment. I knew he'd never been this close to throwing fire or growing wings before-I would've seen it-but as he put his hands together and rubbed them, the flame grew and next thing I knew I was creating shields and ducking out of the way of the small fireballs he was throwing as if he'd done it countless times before. With each one he threw that missed, he got more annoyed and the wings looked as if they were getting bigger and were now making him look as if he was some sort of hunchback. Draco threw another fireball, which singed my robes sleeves, but before he could be proud of his achievement, he let out a tortured howl and outburst from his back, two, feathered, midnight black wings.

The bottom tips of the wings just about skimmed the ground, while the curves at the top, arched slightly above his head. Draco was a remarkable sight and seeing him for what he was, was terrifying because I knew that this was dangerous. My wand was pointed directly at his chest, and stopping my hand from shaking a little from the dizziness that was affecting my mind from the slight amount of lost blood and concussion, I shot another two _Stupefy's_ before he recovered from the pain of growing the wings. Draco shuffled his wings about a bit, staring curiously at them, but his eyes didn't linger for long as they quickly snapped back to where I was standing and, staggering a bit as if he was drunk, he came after me again. Shooting one last _Stupefy,_ he collapsed on the floor unconscious. Once he wasn't awake, his hands cooled down quickly and his wings disappeared back into his back; leaving the only clue that he grew wings was the gaping holes in the back of my robes that he was wearing. I was doubled over trying to catch my breath and wiped the rest of the blood from my face. I was just finishing repairing the gash on my forehead when a gasp coming from in front of me, made me stop and look at the library door. Weaslette was standing frozen in the doorway with a look on her face that suggested that she just saw a murder. Her eyes snapped away from Draco's body on the floor to meet my gaze; letting out a strangled cry, she ran as fast as she could down the corridor, away from us. I watched her run away until I could no longer see her, completed the healing on my cut, picked Draco up from underneath his arms, and began to drag him back to the common room.

I laughed dryly. _'Didn't even get the bloody book.'_

* * *

"Oh Merlin Hermione! Are you alright?" Susan said worriedly as she, Hannah and Ginny finally left their spots and ran over to where Hermione was still lying on the floor.

"Yeah...I'm fine." She said distractedly as he accepted Ginny's hand to help her get up. "What happened?"

"Well, Zabini just kind of burst in here without warning. I don't know what you were doing before that Hermione, but you were in his way to Malfoy and you were just thrown aside like a piece of rubbish. All I could understand after that was that they started wrestling and then...just left." Hannah said slowly while Susan nodded beside her. Hermione looked around the room at the few seventh years that were in there. Some were watching her, others were still staring at the door in shock and there was one person who just went back to reading as if the fight was no more interesting as watching paint dry.

"Oh, well," She breathed. "I'm OK now, I promise. Why don't you just go back to finding what we came here for, I'll join you in a minute. I need to have a talk with Ginny." Hannah and Susan nodded, albeit hesitantly, and returned to their table to look through the books that they'd gathered. Hermione and Ginny walked behind a bookcase away from all the students and hidden from view of everyone. "Is this what you meant by mental?" Ginny nodded her head frantically as if words couldn't express how truthful she was being.

"Did you _see_ him?! Are you _sure_ we shouldn't just phone St. Mungos right now?" Ginny stressed.

"I'm sure. There must be something to this...He can't-he _wouldn't_-just start attacking his friend for no reason, and neither would Zabini."

"I think he could. I doubt Slytherin's even have friends-if they were looking for a fight I don't think any of them would refuse. No matter any of that self-preservation crap they go on about. I mean, it wasn't like Malfoy was even getting hurt, I'd be more worried about the well-being of Zabini."

"I wonder what they were saying to each other...Scrap that, what I want to know is why they even came to the library. When we left, they were still in the common room." She wondered aloud.

"Well no doubt you're going to find out what's up with the two of them." She commented dryly. "Anyway, class is in a couple of minutes and I have to find Luna and copy as much of her homework down as quickly as possible. I may just start ranting to her and she'll eventually know what the bloody hell is making me so paranoid about Malfoy. Who knows? Maybe one of her imaginary little creatures is affecting him." She waved goodbye and left the library quickly. Hermione turned back around and headed back over to Hannah and Susan who looked like they might've found something.

_'Just forget about it Hermione,'_ She thought to herself as she sat back down on the chair between the two of them. _'You have more important things to worry about besides Malfoy and Zabini.'_


	9. Something's Not Right

**A/N- I'm just going to go ahead and tell you now that this is just basically another filler chapter. **

**But do you like the new cover photo for this story? I drew it myself :D Which is quite amazing for me, because I seriously have no artistic talents.**

* * *

Blaise stopped outside the Eight Year common room, wondering how best to go about taking an unconscious Draco up into his own room again, without attracting too much attention to those inside. It looked like the both of them had both very clearly been in a fight, and the people inside could either think what they wanted or ask questions. If anything, it looked like Blaise had lost in whatever fight they think might've happened, as he was so much worse off than Draco was.

Draco had only a few bruises and tears in his robes, and even less cuts that covered his visible skin, which clearly indicated that some form of magic was at work as he had so much less that would be expected from the scuffle they had only around an hour ago. Blaise, on the other hand, was sporting a long pink scar where his recently healed injury was; his back felt extremely bruised, he had a killer headache (of about the same intensity of Draco's) and parts of his robes were torn and singed.

Blaise just huffed, fed up already of thinking up excuses for Draco, and dragged him into the common room, preparing himself to answer the questions as they came. As the door opened, he heard a small amount of laughter and chatter coming from the only two people left in the room, but as they saw him dragging Draco, they became silent. They didn't say anything, but curiosity filled the air. This was the second time in two days that they saw Malfoy's unconscious body being dragged by Blaise up the stairs, to leave him there until he woke up. Blaise didn't bother saying anything to them as he made it around the chairs and sofas, choosing to focus on the fact that injuries that should've been on Draco outside the tower were suddenly appearing as if he was being attack by an invisible force. Big purple and blue bruises were appearing on the exposed skin on his arms where his sleeves had risen up, few cuts marred his fading Dark Mark and face. A noticeable bump was growing at the back of his head and scratch marks were forming on his throat; this only solidified Blaise's idea that the Tower had some sort of charm on it to cancel the effects of his Veela.

Blaise was just on the first step of the staircase, when Harry spoke out. "What did he do now?" He asked curiously, but not concerned for Malfoy. Blaise was considering just making up a poor excuse about getting into a fight with some seventh years, but before he could, Neville decided that he wanted to comment on the situation.

"Looks like it's becoming a habit of his- being unconscious."

"Is he sick?" Harry asked, stepping forward from Neville towards the two Slytherins.

"Not really my place to answer any of that, Potter." Blaise said in a firm voice that said there were to be no more questions.

"Well what about you then? You look just as bad as him." Neville asked, hoping to get some answers of their strange trip to the library.

"My condition is intertwined with the state of Malfoy, and so, once again, it's not my place to say." He said a bit more firmly, and the two boys left it at that and Blaise continued going up the stairs. He stopped outside his white door, took out his key (that transformed into a fox), dragged Draco in, and, for the second time that week, threw Draco onto his bed. Once Draco was lying there properly, and not hanging halfway off the bed, Blaise got a piece of parchment and a quill and wrote Draco a note for when he woke up, leaving it on the bedside table where he would clearly see it. Closing the door behind him, after gathering everything he needed for his afternoon classes, Blaise made his way back down the stairs to wait in the common room until it was time to go to Potions with the other Eighth Years. Just as he reached the bottom step, he had to pause momentarily because it seemed that his concussion had caught up with him and was making him dizzy and sick. Instead of just sitting there, he decided to go see Madam Pomfrey, get a Pepper-up Potion for himself and perhaps one for Malfoy, then maybe go back to the library and get those damned books that Draco was supposed to get before everything went wrong. He just hoped that Hermione had left with her friends and she'd take his warning and never mention it again.

* * *

"You seemed to have healed your head to a good standard, there's nothing more I can do for you with that. Apply that paste to your back every two hours if you can, and the bruising should be almost completely gone by tomorrow, same goes for the Burn-Healing Paste." The Medi-Witch, Madam Pomfrey said as she handed Blaise a pot of thick, yellow paste. "Now, the Pepper-Up Potion will only calm the effects of your concussion slightly, so if it starts to get worse you come straight back here. Understand?" Blaise only nodded as he placed the pot of Bruise-Healing Paste in his robe pocket. "How is it that you managed to get into this state anyway, Mr Zabini?" She asked, eyeing the burnt and torn pieces of his robes.

Instead of answering the question asked by the Professor, Blaise merely evaded it and asked a question of his own. "Is there a chance that I might be able to get another pot of this Bruise-Healing Paste, another dose of Pepper-Up Potion and maybe even a couple of doses of a Calming Draught."

Although there was a lack of any name in what Blaise said about what he wanted, Madam Pomfrey wasn't completely stupid; as Medi-Witch, she had to keep on top of everything happening at Hogwarts-that included knowing what Veelas were capable of and that a certain eighth year student was half. In addition, she knew that there most probably wasn't any reason for Blaise to ask for that many healing potions or paste just for himself when there wasn't any reason for him to; and she knew that the Malfoys and Zabinis were close. "I'm going to tell you this now Mr Zabini, giving Mr Malfoy a Calming Draught will not help him at all, even if you do manage to get it down his throat."

"What do you mean it won't-" Blaise started to ask confused, before the Professor interrupted.

"Mr Malfoy is part Veela, is he not? That's how you've gotten your injuries; I presume that you know of his inheritance."

"I do. But, how did _you _know of the cause of my injuries or even about the Malfoy inheritance?"

"The burn mark is a handprint, I don't know of anything else that could've caused that. You'll also find that every Professor in this school knows of Mr Malfoy as a precaution for whatever problem he may or may not cause. Now, about the Calming Draught; there is no potion that has, as of yet, been created to calm down a Veela's protective instincts- you'll find that even the Veela itself won't be able to do anything about it. A Calming Draught calms ones emotional...turmoil, which is not what he is suffering from and even then, it does not work on magical creatures, I assure you. I understand though, that a charm to quell all magical creatures' magic has been placed on the Eighth Year Common Room, and so that'll only make his injuries show whilst he is in there, once he's out they'll just vanish again." She stated as she looked through some student files in a cabinet by her desk. After a pause, she inquired curiously, "Does he have a head injury?" If so, that'd be the only thing she's be able to help with. She wanted to help all the students in the school when they were sick or hurt- it was in her caring nature -but there was only so much that she would be able to do for Draco, everything else was up to what he did.

Blaise nodded. "He has a small bump forming on the back of his head."

Madam Pomfrey tutted at the condition of the two boys and pulled out a bottle labelled, _'Eva Darlington's Head Calmer'_ in large blue letters and handed it to Blaise. He looked at it curiously, turning the bottle over in his hands. "Created by the sister of the person who invented the Calming Draught. This," She said as she pointed to the smaller blue writing at the back of the bottle that said _'For the use of magical creatures listed here: Goblins, House-Elves, Leprechauns, Dragons (excludes Romanian Longhorn, Chinese Fireball, Ukrainian Ironbelly and Hungarian Horntail), Mermaids, Giants, Trolls, Werewolves and Veelas (including half-breeds). IS NOT TO BE USED ON WIZARDS OR WITCHES THAT ARE NOT CROSSED WITH A MAGICAL CREATURE.' _"Is, as you can see, for magical creatures. It, however is only to be used this once, as it is highly addictive. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Professor. But, what does it _do_ exactly?"

"It will soothe his headache of course-much more effective than having a Pepper-Up Potion unfortunately for us. His Veela healing will cure the cuts and bruises but not his concussion-this will do it for him. Make sure he knows that he's not allowed to have any more than one spoonful." She said very firmly. Blaise nodded again and pocketed the Head Calmer as well, said thanks and goodbye to the Medi-Witch and left the Hospital Wing.

After he left the Hospital Wing, Blaise went back to the library to pick up three different books on magical creatures that had at least a page on the qualities and characteristics of Veelas. He didn't exactly know what books would be help for Draco; Blaise only looked at the contents page and index, skipped to the pages mentioned and then decided whether he wants to check the book out from the library. However, after a while of just flicking through books, he was bored and only looked at the contents and index and decided whether he wanted them or not from the page numbers mentioned; he no longer bothered to check the information contained. Then, he went back to his room in the common room (where Draco was still asleep on his bed), added a bit more to the note that he had previously left, put the three books underneath the note and placed the bottle of Head Calmer behind the note. Blaise sincerely hoped that Draco heeded the addiction warning both on the back of the bottle and note. He was just considering _Rennervating _Draco, but when he heard the others yelling at each other downstairs to hurry up or they'll be late to class, he flew down the stairs and out the door with everybody else.

* * *

_'What's Malfoy doing?' Hannah asked me as she nudged me with her elbow and nodded to the person in question, who we could just about see sliding down the bookshelf to the floor._

_'I don't know, but I don't think he'd want us interfering. Don't worry about him.' I told her, quickly brushing off any conversation that'd be centred on the strange antics of Malfoy._

_ 'Who's Malfoy staring at?' Susan asked as she watched him stare intently at a person who was hidden from us._

_'Well it's not us, so don't worry about it.' I said, not even sparing him a look._

Don't worry about him.

Don't worry about it.

_'What a hypocrite.' _I thought as I went through the library fiasco in my head whilst I waited for my potion to finish brewing._ 'If I said not to worry to Susan and Hannah, why am I worrying myself about it now? If I said not to worry, why then, did I look at him myself when I heard him groaning in the library? Why did I scan the library from my seat to see what could be causing him the pain that I saw in his eyes? Did I approach him for the sole reason to help Ginny, or was there something else?'_ As I thought further into what happened, my eyes flickered over to Zabini who was sitting, waiting for his potion to finish, on the opposite side of the classroom.

_'If you know what's good for you Granger, you'll stay down and mention this to no one.'_

Mention what, exactly? The whole incident-or just their fight? Or the fact that I was the only one to notice that there were scorch marks on the floor outside the library, not mentioning that there were also some bloodstains? And the tiny black feather I saw before a gust of wind swept it away, just as I was about to pick it up.

I was keen to figure out what was going on with the two Slytherins this year, but I couldn't even begin to research anything just based on what I'd seen. There was too little evidence...

What Ginny had said about Slytherins ('I_ doubt Slytherin's even have friends-if they were looking for a fight I don't think any of them would refuse. No matter any of that self-preservation crap they go on about'_) made it a plausible answer as to why they just suddenly started attacking and riling each other up. She was right about worrying more about Zabini though-Malfoy didn't even have so much as a scratch on him when they tumbled out of the library. I could only wonder what it was all about as no one could give me a solid answer; only two people definitely knew. Zabini told me to leave it and so if I pestered him for an explanation, he wouldn't give away anything; and it wasn't as if Malfoy would be so forthcoming with information for me.

The scorch marks? Well, they could've easily started a fiendfyre, or just thrown fire from the tips if their wands-maybe even used a piece of Dark Magic that involved fire.

The blood part of the problem was simple. They were in a fight after all; they could've easily been injured and spilt their blood on the floor. Most likely Zabini's from the gash on his head from the book. _'Probably went to the Hospital Wing to get it repaired before class.'_ I concluded as I noticed the pink scar on the side if his head.

And the feather? There were open arches near the library and we are in the countryside, a loose feather from a crow or raven could've easily been blown inside.

There was nothing overly unnatural about any of the things I found.

I shouldn't be looking anywhere or thinking about anything but my potion, or I could risk getting a detention from Mr-no nonsense-Cassidy, the new Potions Master, but I couldn't help myself. Zabini is keeping a secret from all of us and clearly, Malfoy has some big involvement in it. That's, after all, why Malfoy wasn't in class now. Either that, or his fight with Zabini had been discovered and Malfoy was whisked away to see the Headmistress because he was pummelling Zabini to the floor. But there was the case of Ginny and Malfoy-why was he so-

"Miss Granger, I suggest you stop daydreaming and save your fascinating thoughts for when you're not in my class, unless you want your potion to go wrong and you'd have to sit out with-" His eyes shifted over to Ron, Lavender and, strangely enough, Padma, who were all sitting at the back (where all the desks were unused as there were only nine people in the room), twiddling their thumbs. "Them for the rest of the lesson." He said it as if they were vile creatures, which, as I had come to realise, was what he probably thought. It didn't matter who we were in the Wizarding World- a third of the Golden Trio, Harry bloody Potter or perhaps the one who killed Nagini-he hated you all the same. Like our old DADA teacher, Professor Umbridge, he did not like children one bit. Which was a bit ironic, considering he was extremely young himself, only looking like he was around two years younger (and less rugged) than Lupin was when he became our Third Year DADA Professor. If he didn't have such a sour personality-like forcing people to stop working on their potions as soon as they did one thing wrong, even if it was by accident, for instance-I'd even go so far to say that he was rather handsome. He was tall, easily towering over everybody in the room, but he wasn't lanky; he had messy, light chestnut brown hair with a fringe that partially covered his green eyes and a light tan to his skin. The other problem was that the permanent frown on his face didn't make his features look as handsome as they should've. I stopped my thinking quickly and returned to fixing my gaze and thoughts on nothing else but my potion, which was tedious, and my thoughts were constantly trying to wander. Professor Cassidy didn't like you to reply to him when he told you something, whether you were responding to what he said to you with a 'Yes, or no, Professor' or not. Rules had been quickly established in the first five minutes of the beginning of class, and everyone soon felt that he was worse than Snape when he was alive.

It didn't matter how close we were to his age, we were still students and we still had to abide to his strict rules to a 'T'.

* * *

"I mean, I don't understand what the bloody hell is going through his head. It's extremely terrifying not knowing what he's going to do next in his state of madness! Did he seem...strange on the carriage? I saw you talking to him," I whispered to Luna when Professor Roswell turned to the next person in the queue for revising how to battle Boggarts.

Luna's eyes seemed to twinkle, but if she found something particularly interesting, she refrained from voicing it. "I think he's acting perfectly natural and in no way did he seem strange on the carriage to me. There's no need to worry, he's just got some problems he needs to sort out."

"Damn right he does," I said scowling at the mere memory of it. "That boy's got a lot of nerve telling me that he _'knows'_ I love him and he loves me, then believing that Harry and I are going to split up? He may have caught me off guard then and in the library, but next time I see him he's got a Bat-Bogey Hex coming his way- that I can promise you."

"Maybe he just confused you with someone else?" Luna innocently suggested. I scoffed at the thought- _he confused me with someone else? _The thought was laughable. He knew _exactly _whom he was talking to.

"Oh please, he knew it was me. He called me..._Ginevra,"_ I managed to grit out, not liking my proper name. Luna just kept on smiling innocently at me, but in her eyes, I could vaguely see that it wasn't what she literally meant. However, if what she said wasn't to be taken as literally as I had taken it-, which seemed how anyone _normal _would've taken it -how else was I meant to think about what she said? There _is _no other way, I'm sure of it. Luna was strange and so not many people took notice of what she said, especially when she's going on about her imaginary creatures, and I can't say that I'm different, because in this case, I'm not. Sure, she was in Ravenclaw- the House known for their intelligence and wit -but sometimes she just said stupid things, like Malfoy 'mistaking' me for someone else.

It was far from logical, but I'm sure she believed quite the opposite.

Nothing was making sense anymore.

Malfoy was claiming that I loved him and he loved me- that just wasn't right in itself. And fighting Blaise? Yes, he had a small height advantage over him and I guess that it clearly helped since he had no more than a scratch from what I saw, but it still didn't much sense- no matter what I told Hermione. If they really wanted to fight, they would've used their wands- not their fists. And those eyes, those eyes that were so dark they almost looked black and you couldn't help but hold the gaze. It was as if you could do anything except look away, which is exactly what you would desperately want to do because it felt like he could see what you were thinking. Like there were no barriers between our two minds.

The quicker Hermione finds out what the hell is wrong with him, the sooner I can stop feeling paranoid about him and what his motives are...

* * *

I groaned, but quickly stopped, as hard as it was, because it just made my head worse. I looked around the room that was becoming more familiar than my own, which I have yet to step in to. Out of the corner of my eye I could see three books piled on the bedside with their spines facing, a bottle sat on top with a spoon next to it and a piece of paper with my name written in big letters across the front. I tried to sit up, but that was clearly the worse decision I could've made as the room started to spin and my eyelids drooped, being in the verge of passing out. I slowly put my head back on the pillow and once I stopped being dizzy, I stretched my arm out to try to grab the note without moving much. After knocking my arm accidentally against the bedside table and letting out a strangled groan because of the large bruise there, I managed to pick up the paper and, after picking up my wand from my pocket, I charmed the paper to read what it said to me.

_'Before I lecture you on how much of a good friend I am because I saved your sorry arse from the library, I believe a congratulations is in order. _

_A big congrats to Mr Draco Malfoy, who is one if the few rare Veelas that have the ability to throw fire from their hands. If you don't believe me, maybe you can check out my burnt robes or the marks on the floor outside the library. Oh, and another congratulations-your wings their lovely, although, mind you, they slow you down a bit and well done for staying in 'control' for at least ten minutes when your Veela obviously wanted to take over._

_I don't know whether you can remember what happened-my knowledge isn't very good on the minds of Veelas- but in case you don't, I'll include a short little summary for you: _

_We went to the library to get a book. We left the library without said book. Overall, the trip to the library was completely pointless. That's basically the gist of it; of course, there were some minor details that happened in between. You got a book- a particularly thick looking one at that- and whacked it against your head, you can blame that for some of your headache. Next, you crumpled to the floor, scratching your throat, which is why there are red claw marks there and then you gave up your entire control (which I had mentioned earlier that you managed to keep for ten minutes). You then proceeded to scare Weaslette to the other side of the room, which made Granger start to approach you for whatever reason. You started to get angry; I saw the wings start to protrude from your back, your hands were burning and I started a fight with you to get you out of the library. Not the best idea considering you were beyond angry and as I said, I saw firsthand those wings and fireballs of yours, and your injuries should show you just how intense it was. I was the most cause of your concussion though, but it had to be done. I slammed you to the floor once and, after four Stupefy's, you finally collapsed, again, knocking your head on the floor. You can stop worrying about whether anyone discovered your hard kept secret, because no one has. I dragged you back here before anyone could see you and left you in my room again. Anyway, we are all in class now, so you, you lucky bastard, are having a lovely day off from your first classes. _

_I should mention that once you get out of the Tower, all your cuts, bruises and scratches will disappear as there is a certain charm on the Tower to stop your natural magic healing you, but that headache will stay with you. The bottle next to this note should cure the headache for you. However, be careful Draco, I've read the warnings on the back. If you take too much of this; it is addictive and if you have too much you can say goodbye to your future heirs, your 'gorgeous' blond hair or that 'handsome face' of yours because it'll all be ruined, amongst other things that I can't be bothered to explain on this note. A teaspoon is ALL you're allowed to have, understand me Malfoy? _

_I'm such a good friend to you..._  
_I went back to the library after dumping you here and got you three books that had at least a bit of information about Veelas. But let's get one thing straight- even if these books prove to be absolutely no help to you whatsoever, you are NOT allowed to leave the Tower and go to the library yourself. You can go get your Mother's book, leave this room to go into yours, go downstairs into the common room and order the House-Elves to get you food from the kitchens-but you are not leaving the Tower._

_Have fun,_  
_ Blaise._

"Fucking Zabini." I grumbled under my breath as I scrunched up the note and threw it across the room before fumbling for the spoon and bottle on the bedside table once again. Pushing through the agony in the hopes that it would be relieved shortly, I sat myself up in the bed and opened the bottle of Head Calmer. I brought the bottle close to my nose and took a big whiff of the indigo potion inside. "Mmm..." I moaned. If it tasted as good as it smelled, it was no wonder that it was addictive. It smelt like a fresh, fruit cocktail; apples, oranges, pineapples, cherries, watermelons and just a bit of coconut. This smelt absolutely divine, but it only made me keep comparing it to the scent of Ginny. My eyes almost fluttered close at the thought of it, but I quickly stopped myself as I realised how stupid and sappy I was being. I have no intention of talking to her if what Blaise said was true, that I scared her away in the library. And Granger? What was her reason for approaching me? _'If only I knew...Isn't she supposed to be near enough impossible to distract when she's researching?' _I thought. I shrugged. I couldn't care less what the mudblood was doing as long as she didn't come too near me. I levitated the spoon and poured as much of the potion as I could onto the teaspoon before stoppering it and placing it back on the table; I grabbed the handle of the floating spoon and swallowed the equally sweet tasting substance. I moaned as it slid down my throat and I instantly felt better. I reached for the bottle again, but then my eyes moved to look at the scrunched up ball of paper lying on the floor, and I slowly retracted my hand back to my side. Contrary to what some people might think, I'd rather like to have children one day because I'm not a complete heartless git, although I would feel extremely sorry for the Malfoy heirs for being at least a third-Veela. Why would I want to put them through something like that? Why would I want them to experience what I am? _'Well, unless I want something bad to happen again, I guess it's time for me to read up on what I am.'_

I reached over with ease now and picked up the book that was on the top of the pile, which was clearly the thickest, looking like it contained around 2000 pages of information. It was a bit of a struggle to lift the book over to onto my lap, as I'd been told before already; the room erased any of my magical qualities from being part Veela. _'An A-Z Encyclopaedia of Magical Creatures From Europe.' _The title read. I flipped the book over and flicked through the last pages until I came to the heading of 'V' and easily found Veela, which was just under Vampire, on a list of only two creatures. "Page 1987. Hmm...Quite close to the end." I muttered to myself as I quickly found page 1987 before my face dropped. It was only a page of information and someone had ripped the top half out of the book. "Idiots!" I cursed. The only bit of information left was about marriage and bonding to a Veela. It wasn't exactly the thing I was looking for in these books, but the last owner of it left me no choice but to read it. _'After all,'_ I tried to think positively, _I'll need to know this-eventually-maybe-_hopefully._'_

_'Contrary to popular belief, a Veela has no fangs- that quality is distinct to __**Vampires**__ (see pages 1981-86) - although a Veela does claim its mate as theirs, it is through a different method that isn't entirely known. _

_Bonding as Veela and Mate can either occur before marriage, or during it; although if it does happen before, they'll be required to bond a second time during the marriage ceremony to ensure that it's still strong and functioning properly as explained in the top paragraphs (The Powers of a Veela and Its Mate). The bonding of a Veela is very simple, but it holds very complicated magic that has yet to be understood, in both the ways that it works and the ways that it is created. Bonding is when both are claimed to each other, but this could prove to be fatal for the Veela because, if the full consent of the Mate is not present during it, the Veela will die of heartbreak due to the ruined bond. To bond Veela and Mate even closer to each other, blood from each participant is required and it is to be conducted by a Seer who is able to confirm that the Mate is most definitely theirs before they are bonded eternally to each other. It is a well-kept secret of Veelas about what exactly occurs during the important ceremony- as said in the paragraph above- and so not much information can be divulged about it. _

_At the marriage to a Veela, however, more information has been found. It is very similar to the wedding of a normal Wizards or Muggles, although, there is more complicated magic being used, and it has been proven that the style of magic used transfers a fraction of different parts of that Mates/Veelas personality to the other. This could lead either the Mate or Veela to become more spiteful, for instance, or cleverer. Other spells are also used during marriage, and again, it is magic that has yet to be completely understood in how it works and is created, but one of the spells is known to intensify their magical (spell wise) strength and prowess._

_'No wonder all those girls wanted to be my Mate...' _I thought as I thought back to during the holidays when I was being introduced to the Pureblooded girls. From what it said, it seemed that bonding to and marrying a Veela had more benefits than not- for the Mate anyway as the Veela had the looming possibility that it could die, but it wasn't so bad. I was about to close the book and place back on the table where I got it from, when I realised that my hand was covering another small paragraph at the bottom. I moved it away, and with curiosity, read the last bit of information.

_'From observing a Veela and Mate after marriage as research into their somewhat secretive lives, Dr Nathanial Roberts from St Mungo's Hospital, had found a small amount of evidence that around a month after marriage, both Veela and Mate start to become broody which only worsens as time passes without the female of the pair being pregnant. However, the instinctive feeling will affect the Mate more and not the actual Veela, for reasons mentioned in the paragraph titled 'The Powers of a Veela and Its Mate.'_

Not really knowing what to think of the last piece on information, I closed the book, placed it back on the table, and reached for the one that was under it. It was much, much thinner and shorter in height than the Encyclopaedia, only looking like it held no more than 500 pages. _'Nymphs, Sirens and Veelas.' _ Hoping that this would be more helpful than the half a page I read, I opened the book to the contents page and went to the page number next to the sub-heading, 'Veela'. The book was quite misleading though, as although it looked like it contained a very good amount of information about the three creatures mentioned in the title from the outside, the words on the page was made up of large titles, many pictures and the information was in a big font as well, but it was also brief and mostly filled with things that I already knew.

'_Veelas are beautiful and entrancing creatures that originate from Bulgaria. Most of the population are female but there are a few males. There is at least one difference between a male and female Veela, which is:_

_The males have wings hidden in their backs, with no noticeable indications on the skin that the wings are underneath. When the Veela is angry, or is protecting its Mate, the wings will appear automatically and disappear once the Veela has calmed down or eliminated the threat; however, a Veela may be able to discover how to make the wings appear and disappear at will. The wings start off as pure black, but as they become closer to their Mate, they begin to turn white, changing colour completely when they have bonded successfully._

_Veelas are able to shoot balls of fire from their hands when, again, they're angry or in a protective state, but it does not necessarily mean that a Veela has its wings out and fire in its hands at the same time. This is a rare trait to both the male and female Veela- rarer than the birth of a male Veela- but there have been some recorded incidents of a Veela shooting fire from its hands. A Veela also has enhanced senses (sight, hearing, taste, touch and smell) which are a part of its animalistic instinct for survival and search for its Mate._

_At birth, every Veela is blessed with a destined Mate. Before their 18th birthday, a Veela must find their Mate and bond with them or they will die of heartbreak. Many laws protect Veelas, so it is an almost literal meaning when it is said that they must do anything that they can to win the Mate's heart, however, there is no law in place that rids the Mate of their freedom and forces them to be with the Veela. Another problem of being Veela and Mate means that if the Mate happens to die, the Veela will also. But, if the Veela dies the Mate will still continue to live.'_

'_Great, so either way, I am dead.' _I thought sarcastically to myself as I finished reading all the not-so-useful information that was contained in the large text that covered around about fifteen pages. Looking at a good thing about the last thing that I just read, was that, although Ginny had been in dangerous situations before, she hadn't been in as many as some of the other Gryffindors, which meant that my chances of dying were considerably greater than if I was destined to be with, say Granger for example, who A) Is a mudblood and is wanted dead by the remaining followers of Voldemort because she shouldn't be allowed to have magic. B) Is part of the Golden Trio and is wanted dead by the remaining followers of Voldemort for defeating him and, lastly, C) Is, again, part of the Golden Trio and so is almost always in a dangerous situation. Tossing that book back on the table, I picked up the last one that was, although taller and thicker than the last book; it wasn't as thick or tall as the first. I placed it on my lap, once again, and looked at the title with more hope than I had with the last two. _'Magical Creatures Native to Bulgaria'. _I opened the book and quickly turned to the pages on Veelas towards the back, thanking my lucky stars that the author of this book (Erik Aleksandrov), seemed to know what he was talking about. I looked at each different sub-title, automatically disregarding the ones that I was sure that I already knew about, such as _'The Traits of a Veela'_, and went straight to an interesting paragraph, _'First Meetings and Touches-The Mate:'_

_'When the Mate first meets their Veela, nothing as dramatic happens to the Mate as it does to the Veela, but there is a slight shift in their thoughts and relationship, no matter whether the Veela has come into its inheritance or not at that time. A strong connection is immediately established between Mate and Veela, and, although the Mate may or may not feel it, the Veela- as mentioned in the paragraph above- will feel as if there is some kind of pull, always trying to bring them together. The Mate will be filled with a natural sense of curiosity about the Veela, whether they notice the change or not is yet to be discovered, but they will almost always be thinking about them, although the thoughts are not necessarily good ones and can be hateful. _

_A similar reaction to when the Veela first smells its Mate happens at their first touch, however, the consequence to the Mate is definite. No experts on Veelas are entirely sure what is the cause of the reaction, but there are two main theories that they agree on:_

_There is a belief that because a Veela contains more magic than just a witch or wizard, when the Veela touches its Mate (only on the occasion that the Mate isn't a Veela or part Veela) a big surge of magic passes into the witch or wizard and causes them to promptly faint. _

_The other main belief is that certain emotions may be present when the Mate is touched, and so a great quantity of emotion is passed into the witch or wizard and, combined with the Mate's own emotions, it is thought to be too much for them the first time and again, causes them to faint-'_

_"No, no this can't be true. There must be different results for each Veela and Mate. No, I'm so sure it's her! How could it not be?"_ I thought stubbornly as he closed the book, but kept his finger on the page that he was reading. It _had _to be Ginny. She had the scent- the scent of my Mate and she fit the prophecy. Who else could it be when the clues are so definite. It certainly isn't anyone else- nothing strange has happened while I was around anyone else. It's her. Definitely her without a shadow of doubt.

_'But it's not her, obviously. You touched her on the train, and did she faint? No, she didn't. She was struggling against you- that means, clearly, she was conscious. If she was struggling to get away from you, does that mean that there is some kind of pull between you? No. Forget it Draco, it's not her- you got it wrong. You've been completely fooled by the youngest Weasley. I had a small nagging feeling that it wasn't her.' _The Veela part of my brain was saying as I desperately tried to forget the sinking truth- except it wasn't the truth at all. The truth had evidence to show that it clearly was the honest truth, but this was just an illusion. It seemed like the truth- as if it was real - but it wasn't. It was far from-

_"Illusions are tricky to understand."_

"Damn right they are Lovegood." I muttered to myself as I remembered what she had told me. Did she know that I was trying to say Ginny's name and that I was under the illusion that she was my Mate? Or was just a piece of advice that coincidentally applied to the situation I was in now? Maybe she wasn't even talking about my Mate, maybe she was talking about something else? I tried to remember what we were talking about on the carriage, but I couldn't. It was just a blur...

That girl was tricky to understand, but I knew that I needed to talk to her soon. What else could she know? There was just too much to think about, too much to try understand and too many questions to think about answering without knowing the answers._ 'One more paragraph and that'll be it for the day. I'll go in my room after this for the first time, and I'll just stay there for the rest of the day. I can't be bothered to face their stupid questions now, that can wait for tomorrow. Now what one looks most interesting...?'_

_'After Bonding, Does Anything Special Happen to the Mate: _

_Yes. The Bonding Ceremony of a Veela and Mate is a well-kept secret, but it is widely known that it happens. After they are eternally bonded, it has been thought by a few people and in one or two cases even been proved, that some Veela qualities appear in the Mate. Not enough traits to consider the Mate itself a Veela- especially if it wasn't before -but enough to show that they're not completely a non-magical creature. It has been shown that, quite like the Veela, their eyes change from their original colour to black when they are feeling possessive, lust or anger. If the Mate is bonded to a Veela that has the rare power to shoot fire from their hands, then that will also be found in the Mate- but only a weaker form of it. The Mate will also share the quality of being able to transfer all their angry energy into another object- inanimate or not. '_

_'Wait-wait-wait! Instead of transforming into some sort of-of- _thing_, I could just put my anger into someone else? This is probably the only useful trait I have...' _I thought as I closed the book, stood up, left the room, opened my own using the ferret-key, and laid on the bed thinking about everything I'd learnt and thought about in the past 2 hours.

* * *

**A/N-Sorry for the shitty chapter, but it was quite hard trying to come up with original pieces of Veela information that is not usually in other Veela stories. Nevertheless, I hope that it's satisfactory. **

**I hope that the new Potions Master sounds worse than Snape. I was trying to make him absolutely unbearable but, yeah, it wasn't really working out for me.**

**I was just wondering if any of you lovely people have ever read either, 'Siren' or 'What's Left of Me'? I would like to know what you think of them if you have read them, because I'm reading them at the moment.**

Wooo! Thanks everyone we've hit just one over than 100 follows for this story! A Happy New Year to you all- sorry it's a bit late, I had to finish this chapter first :3

Please review! 3


	10. Twenty-Three Days In Fifteen Minutes

**A/N- Man, I had so many different titles for this chapter. I just couldn't decide on one!  
First it was 'Preparing the Portrait'**  
**Second was, 'Ginny Weasley Is a Blood Traitor, Hermione Granger Is a Mudblood'**  
**Third was, 'Blood, Sweat and Tears.'  
Then we came to 'Twenty-Three Days In Ten Minutes'**

* * *

"Right." She said as she looked around at her peers, as they, once again, were standing around the square canvas, and discussing the portrait. "Okay-so. This is quite complicated, so try to keep up; I don't particularly want to go over this again."

"How generous of you Patil." He said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"No one asked your opinion Death-"

"_Padma_!" Hermione warned through gritted teeth, as she looked pointedly towards the Ravenclaw. "We can't afford to have _another _argument like yesterday. We need to get this done, okay. And Malfoy, I'd prefer it if you stopped riling everyone up. It would make everyone's lives easier."

"And I'd prefer it if I could get the last two hours of my life back after I had to sit through that complete Muggle rubbish."

"You're not the only one." Blaise muttered underneath his breath. Hermione shot him a hard glare, turned back to Padma and told her to continue.

"Alright, so. We all just watched the Wizard of Oz which is the theme of our painting." Padma continued as if she hadn't been interrupted, but there was still some poorly masked anger in her voice.

As soon as everyone had arrived back from breakfast that morning, they came across Padma, Hermione, Susan and Hannah all putting the finishing Charms on the Muggle DVD player. Once they were done, Lavender excitedly ran down the stairs with the Wizard of Oz disc and put it in. Five minutes into the film, the DVD player let loose a puff of smoke and stopped working, but another couple of minutes later, the player was fixed and they watched the film the whole way through. Hermione and Lavender were basically acting as the cinema attendants to the disappointment of everyone else, and shrilled at people when they made a witty comment or so much as laughed. However, Hermione and Lavender were just being strict hypocrites and whispered to each other the whole way through it- even squealing at some parts. Most people, by the end of the film, were just as in love with the Wizard of Oz as Hermione and Lavender were, but others- such as Draco and Blaise - found it relatively uninteresting.

"Well, when I say _'we all' _I mean everyone except Susan, who fell asleep on my shoulder half way through it." Susan looked highly embarrassed; whether it was because all the eyes in the room were on her, or because she was genuinely embarrassed about falling asleep during the film, no one was quite sure.

Two days ago, once everyone had come back from their classes, Draco had started to experiment with transferring his anger into other people. Of course, he actually had to be angry to be able to do that; so, naturally, he began to think of Potter, his own certain predicament with the female Weasley, and once he was angry enough, he transferred it into Blaise. Blaise would then start shouting at Draco; he would get angry and would then pass his anger into someone else. By the time everyone in the common room was just about ready to start killing each other, Draco left to escape their wrath. It was only when he went back into the common room half an hour later, did Blaise inform him (after ranting about how annoying he was, putting his anger into him) that supposedly Ron and Lavender had broken up during it. For a moment, Draco thought that it might've been because Hermione was shouting about how she loved Ron, that the two decided to end it, but that was only when he realised that there was a distinct absence of Hermione. Since the transferring of anger had gone so brilliantly for Draco, he had begun to wonder whether he'd be able to transfer other irritating emotions into people, even though the books mentioned no such thing. It was then, when he was dying of boredom during the film and had just found himself almost falling asleep, that he decided that he would try passing his boredom into someone else, because transferring anger was easy enough. All he had to do was touch someone, focus on all his anger, and imagine it passing into the other person and- BAM! It was done. So, when he looked to his left, he saw that Susan was seated as far away from him as possible, because, let's face it. Who wants to sit next to the big, bad, evil Death Eater? Stretching out him arm as if he was yawing, Draco placed a finger to her back- so gently so that she didn't notice - and focused on transferring all his boredom into her. Luckily and amazingly (because no books had mentioned it), Draco managed to pass it all into Susan, and obviously the small girl couldn't handle all the boredom and promptly fell asleep on Padma's shoulder.

"Anyway, we are focusing on the twister scene because that's what we're painting. Obviously. I am now about to explain how exactly you make a moving portrait, so all of you need to listen. Okay. Well, when we were in the library, we found a book and apparently, we need unicorn's blood. So, um, Neville, if you could make a detour to Hagrid's cabin on your way to Herbology and ask if there was any way that he could _get _unicorn blood for us?" Neville nodded his head.

"Unicorn blood? What is the purpose for unicorn blood?" Ron asked.

"Oh, it's going to be put in a potion that Malfoy is going to be making for us. It'll be used once it's finished. As a varnish."

"Wait a minute! Since when did _I _agree to make a potion for _you _mud-" Blaise elbowed him hard in the rib cage to stop him completing the word, and suffering from another pain attack. That, however, didn't stop him from muttering 'Blood' under his breath and clenching his teeth together to stop himself from crying out in pain, as Hermione understood what she'd just been called. His chest was rising rapidly, but he still remembered his powers during his agony and hoped that torturous pain was another thing that he could pass into someone else. Before Blaise noticed just what he was doing, Draco clamped his hand onto his shoulder in a vice grip as he tackled through the pain. Second, by second, Draco felt the pain slowly dissipating and saw Blaise's face gradually being contorted more and more by the pain being passed into him. Unfortunately, there was only so much pain that Draco could transfer as it was meant to condition him not to hurt his Mate, so suddenly, the release of pain abruptly stopped. It was still there, but it wasn't as bad as it would've been if Blaise hadn't taken just a bit less than half of it.

Hermione gave them both confused and worried looks, as their expressions immediately began to change, but cautiously spoke to them as she, and now everyone else, watched them. "Well, what else as you going to do in terms of helping make this portrait Malfoy? I suppose you're also quite brilliant at potions," She added through gritted teeth as if it pained her to say something like that to him.

_'Granger doesn't know the bloody meaning of pain.' _Draco thought, as he painfully managed a smirk. "Didn't know you thought so highly of me Granger." He croaked. "Fine, I'll do it. Now, if you excuse me, I think I'm going to go up to my room. I'm sure you won't miss me." He turned and began to walk back towards the staircase. He heard mutters from the other Eighth Years, but they were just background noise. All he was focusing on was the beating of his heart and the roaring blood in his ears. He barely noticed the light footsteps coming towards him, but when the thin, nimble fingers touched his upper arm, he whirled around with his eyes blazing. The small touch sent a feeling of being electrocuted with 1000 volts up each of their arms. Of course, Hermione didn't faint from their touch because of the Charms set up around the common room, but she stumbled back from the shock and stared at her hand in horror, as if it had murdered someone. "Get your filthy hands off me!" Draco growled, although there was an undercurrent of panic in his voice. He had snapped without thinking about what he was saying, and he soon felt himself dropping back against the wall as the pain over took him again, worse than before. His teeth bit his tongue so hard, to stop himself from crying out, that his mouth became filled with blood. The panic in his gut was clear now.

But, who wouldn't be panicked when the unwanted truth had been shown once again? He didn't want her to faint. If he had it his way, she'd never touch him, he'd never touch her and he'd be able to die without knowing for sure that it was her. That was fine for him. It wasn't as if it was definitely Hermione, although he was in a deep state of denial where the only glimmer of hope that it wasn't her was beginning to blur. It wasn't as if he could ignore the electricity of her touch- he certainly never felt it when Ginny had touched him on the train. He couldn't ignore the fact, now that it had happened three times, that he got pain whenever it was her that he was insulting. He also couldn't ignore the surprising fact that Hermione hadn't passed out from the touch. _'Ah,' _Draco remembered. _'The Charms prevent this kind of magic.' _However, that didn't stop him from wondering that, if Hermione was truly his Mate, would she still pass out if he touched her outside the common room because she hadn't the first time? Or, would something else happen?

Sixteen. Sixteen days he'd lost today- two weeks in the space of five minutes. The reality that he was dying had only just begun to sink in; and he was dying fast if he kept it up as he was. "_Merlin, _I wish you knew how much pain you put me in." Draco confessed, not really thinking about what he was saying through the blinding pain.

"How much pain _I _put _you _in?" Hermione asked incredulously as she brought her hand quickly down by her side. All other conversations and comments had stopped, and everyone was now waiting expectantly to see what would happen between the two opposites- Blaise more than anyone else was. He could almost see what would happen, and what he could see was not good. Not good at all. "You're one to talk! What about all the bloody pain you've put _me _in all these years. And anyway, I haven't put you in-"

With a shaky hand, Draco reached out to try grab Hermione's wrist. He barely had time to think of the consequences, or listen to Blaise as his voice cut through the tense silence ("Draco don't-") before his fingers wrapped around her wrist and pulled her towards him sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall. A shrill scream poured out of Hermione's mouth a filled the whole common room and immediately everyone was on edge.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted, as he and Ron ran towards her. They barely made it one step, before they realised that blood was trickling down Draco's chin, pouring out of his mouth as his screams joined Hermiones. Everyone froze from their positions to go over and save Hermione. Whatever was happening, they decided, it was happening to the both of them. Whatever was making them hurt, it was going to torture them into insanity. Tears leaked out of her eyes, as a new wave of agony was sent through her, ten times worse than the first time and a thousand times worse than her torture at Malfoy Manor. Her tears rolled down her cheeks and mixed with the droplets of Draco's blood on the floor, making it give a quiet hiss. Hermione though, had a large pain threshold, and although corners of her vision was becoming black, she could withstand the pain- whatever it was that was causing it- for a while longer. Only after a few seconds, the pain became so much that it made her start to gag, but she suppressed it as she kept screaming her throat raw. "Hermione! Hermione what's wrong? What's happening?" Her screams only reminded Harry and Ron of her torture at Malfoy Manor in the hands of Bellatrix- but this time, it was with Bellatrix's nephew that her screams were being reawakened.

"Malfoy," Hermione screeched before choking on a sob. "Malfoy! Make it stop! Malfoy make it stop, _please_."

The thing was, he would've let go as soon as he was punished for hurting her physically this time by passing his pain into her, but he found that he couldn't. He wanted to. _Merlin_ did he want to- but he couldn't. A part of him wanted her to feel some pain for hurting him in the same ways that he hurt her. The principle of being a Veela was extremely unfair. Why should _he_- someone who'd been unfortunately paired with a muggle-born, which he'd been told to hate all his life- be the one being punished. What about _her_? For when she slapped him across the face, when she and her friends had managed to get his Father thrown in Azkaban, when she beat him in _every_ test _every _year when he was meant to be superior to his kind. Most importantly, she deserved to be punished for being born. Why couldn't lovely, Gryffindor Princess, Hermione Granger have been born into a Pureblood family at the very least? The House wasn't what mattered most- no, what mattered most was her blood and the fact that he had to now throw away his old beliefs and past to start anew with her. Why couldn't he have been paired off with anyone else?

Oh, yes. Hermione Granger deserved to be punished just as much as Draco did.

Then again, where were his protective instincts? If she were truly his, then surely he'd stop as soon as the first scream escaped her mouth because he'd never want to hurt his Mate. Maybe a part of his Veela was just as sadistic as his Wizard was.

"This-This is the pain you put me in Granger. This is the pain." He rasped, and with great strength, Draco pried his hands off her wrist and all at once, the screaming stopped, only being replaced by loud whimpers and sobs. As soon as he let go, Draco's eyes closed and bile rose up in his throat, only to be pushed back down as he took calming breaths. Hermione, however, didn't take the pain as well as Draco seemed to have, rolled onto the floor from her crouching position and curled up into a balled as she continued to cry. Beads of sweat were gathering at the top of their foreheads and trickling down their faces, joining with the blood and tears on the floor with another little fizz. A few seconds passed after everything stopped, and everyone was still cautiously watching them in case something else might happen. When they were sure they weren't, everyone rushed over to Hermione, leaving Draco to sit in unloved peace. They couldn't get as close to Hermione as they felt was appropriate at that moment, because as soon as Lavender laid a hand on her shaking shoulder, Hermione hoarsely cried for no one to touch her. Well, that only happened for a couple of seconds as Draco was dragged out of the common room by his sleeve by a fuming Blaise. Once completely out of the common room, Draco no longer stumbled, breathed heavily or felt like a weight was weighing him down. He stood up straight and all the bleeding in his mouth stopped as he felt all the muscles in his tongue repair itself. Slowly, the after effects of the pain vanished.

"What was that Malfoy?" Blaise yelled as he pushed Draco into the wall. "What. Was. That."

"She deserved it." Draco spat as he easily threw Blaise's arms off him and moved away from the wall. "She doesn't know the meaning of pain like I do."

Draco's eyes suddenly snapped shut again, and a long forgotten memory swam to the front of his head, like it had all those days ago at the start of Eighth Year.

_Smack! The sound rang in the silence of what Draco recognised to be his Father's office in Malfoy Manor. This memory wasn't in black and white, as the last one mostly was. This one was in complete colour._  
_"Draco, was that girl you were talking with in the park a Muggle? Yes or no." His Father asked. This had to be the only time in his life where he had heard his Father say something in such a threatening way, but he also looked rather conflicted about it. A red handprint covered the side of the young Draco Malfoy's face. This memory must've been older than the last one, as the Draco there looked younger, with a much rounder face, that the other one. _

_"Yes Father she was." Draco sniffed and wiped away the few tears on his face. He kept his eyes to the floor, not able to look at the disappointed face of his Father._

_"Malfoys don't stare at the ground Draco." Father said as he yanked his head up to stare him in the eye, by his pale blond hair. "We don't cry either, so stop your sniffling. And we stand up straight," Here Lucius jabbed him in the back with his cane to make him stand taller. "Now, you have no reason to be ashamed if you have nothing to be ashamed for. I want you to answer some questions for me truthfully, and when I say truthfully, I mean it." Draco nodded, still staring him in the eye. "How did you meet her?"_

_In all honesty, Draco wasn't really sure. He'd just entered the park with his Mother after she had given in to his pestering, and, although he'd never been in a park before- especially a Muggle one - and had only quick glimpses of this one he felt as if he knew exactly where to go. Something- he didn't know what -felt as if it was pulling him towards the slide and all Draco did was allow the force to robotically move his feet in that direction. Then, at the end of the queue to get on the slide, was a girl standing there. To his astonishment, it was the same girl that had appeared in his last flashback, but unfortunately, she was still in black and white. In his little 5-year-old mind, he knew that he Father wouldn't believe him; more importantly would probably think he's crazy or lying and Draco didn't want to think of the consequences for that. However, he reasoned, it was the truth, so he might as well say it. "I'm not really sure Father. Some kind of pull just brought me to her. What does that mean? Does it mean she's special? It felt like it when we spoke."_

_A look of utter astonishment and disbelief crossed Lucius's features before the memory faded._

"-going to do now?" Blaise finished. It was clear from the confusion on Draco's face that he hadn't been listening to what Blaise had just said. He let out a dramatic sigh. "Everyone saw that Draco. Questions are going to be asked, and I have no idea how to answer them and they're not even _my_ problems! What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know." Draco shrugged, feeling strangely calm again. He stuck his hands in his trouser pockets and began to walk away. "Act like it never happened perhaps?"

"I'll tell you this Malfoy-no one else is going to act as if it never happened! Especially not Granger. She could've gone insane from that experience and ended up being in St Mungos. There's still a possibility that she will. Where are you going anyway? Malfoy!"

"I'm going for a walk. There are some things that I need to think about and to do. Someone I need to talk to. Things I need to practice." He said quietly as he turned to look at Blaise. "Alone. _Alone _Zabini. Well, for now at least. I'll be needing to talk to you when I get back from my travels. Tell Longbottom that he needn't bother with asking for unicorn blood, I'll do it myself. Try getting Granger to Madame Pomfrey as well, or at the very least, calming her down, making sure she's still sane and she rests in her room for the day. The pain can take quite a toll on someone. And, even with maybe two of us missing, get everyone to start the picture. Our days are running out," Here Draco laughed dryly as he thought of himself. "And we haven't even started. Force them if you have to. See you in class-maybe." Without waiting for any sort of response from Blaise, Draco quickened his pace and headed towards the open grounds.

* * *

**A/N-God, I'm in such a dramatic mood this week. Oh, and sorry it's short.**

**OK, so I'm sorry that everyone's reactions to Hermione and Draco's torture were so bad. I sort of like to redeem myself of that flaw by saying that, they were so shocked, confused and emotionally pained by the screams themselves, they didn't really know what to do. I mean, what would you do if two people suddenly started screaming at the top of their lungs, crying and maybe had some blood coming out their mouth- but you didn't know what was happening to them because there was no obvious problem? Because you didn't know what was happening or what was wrong, you wouldn't be able to help them. Even if it was only helping them a little bit.  
**  
**Review please! 3**


	11. Sorting Problems Out

**A/N- Oh! I forgot to ask this last chapter, but, would any of you be interested in beta-ing my story for me? Please say so if you would.**

**This chapter might be all over the place, just to let you know, but bear with me because I write parts and then decide later that I want to add some more things in and change what happens. Also, anyone have any idea what day it is in this story? I really should've thought about it, but it's seemed to have slipped my mind and now I'm wondering when they're going to have a weekend.**

* * *

_Hermione Granger is mine._

_She belongs to me._

"No..."

_Granger is destined to be with me eternally._

"_Merlin_ _no." _

_Hermione is my predicted mate._

_Hermione holds my life in her hands._

_Hermione the Mudblood is the equivalent of being my wife._

_Hermione and I are already practically-_

"No. No! _No!_" I shouted angrily as I threw a large rock that I normally wouldn't have been able to lift, far into the Black Lake. I stopped my thought processes immediately, not even wanting to linger on my last thought that I had no intention of completing. This was wrong. Oh, so, _so_ wrong. I pulled at my hair as I groaned loudly; getting even more annoyed at myself as I childishly stomped my foot.

None of it sounded right! This was like a language- if what you say doesn't _sound right, _how could it _be right?_ How could it make any sense?

How do I even know it's Granger for sure? I mean, I don't want to make the same mistake as thinking it was Weaslette- the realisation of my stupid mistake came with anger and embarrassment. It didn't leave for _days. _It was just that horrifying. How could _I_ have _thrown myself_ at _her_ without any thought? It was like diving in the pool without checking how deep it was. Pure idiocy.

Anyway, back to the main thought process. How did I know it was truly her this time?

For one simple bloody reason:  
Every time I insulted the brunette, bushy-haired witch...with her alluring honey-coloured eyes, petite frame, head-strong and beautifully intelligent mind and-and her soft looking cherry coloured-

_Wow...Time out. Time out! Did I really just-? _My knees buckled underneath me and I collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily. My eyes were wide with alarm, as I shakily raked my fingers through hair. I just sat there for a few moments, slowing my breathing as I determinedly tried not to focus on the image of Granger that had somehow disturbed my thoughts. _Just forget it. Just forget it. Trick of the mind, that's all. Stupid Veela. Okay, okay..._

Anyway, every time I insulted the witch the pain that courses through me couldn't be ignored. Not anymore. The first time, it could've been mistaken as a hex, but only minutes ago, it was clear what was happening.

Oh, and it obviously was more than just _one _reason. It was also definitely Granger because, when you think about her, the prophecy definitely makes sense. Blaise was right when he said that it most likely would be a muggle-born- _too right_ for my likings. I should've known that there was a reason that I felt something instinctive at the thought of it being a muggle-born!

I was right to feel the instinctive feeling that she wasn't in Slytherin- she was the complete opposite of a Slytherin! A Gryffindor! Selfless, brave, loyal. What was I? Selfish, cowardly and traitorous. Who would want to look for someone with those pathetic qualities? What Gryffindor has ever been with a Slytherin? What would make me any different to Granger, apart from the fact that she was just as destined for me as I was for her, except she didn't know that and didn't need to, probably never?

The last line of the prophecy also no longer baffled me. Why hadn't I thought of it before? _I had called her Gryffindor's little Princess first day back!_ It was why thinking that she was a 'Princess' or would become a 'Princess' felt right. I used to be proud of my accomplishment of being Slytherin's Prince, but now, when the title had so cruelly been used against me, I'm not too sure what to think of it.

_Merlin_, the more and more I thought about her being my Mate, the more little things that just confirmed it popped into my mind. She _hated_ Divination from what I remember, and I distinctly remember not having much thought for it either and complaining to my Father about the impracticality of using Divination to determine my Mate. Ms Vera, the Seer, said that I was different to my ancestors, and damn was she right. The first ever Malfoy to have a muggle-born as a Mate. How popular I must be with my ancestors- the one to ruin their well constructed 'pure blood' after all these centuries of preserving it. I found Weaslette feisty on the train and found it pleasing- the only other person that is as headstrong, maybe even more than Weaslette, was Granger. I liked that the female Weasley was a good fighter- but when it came to brilliant fighters, who was better than the Brightest Witch of Her Age? It was the reason that my heart felt no emptier than it originally had when the redhead 'rejected' me. It was the reason that I was able to guess correctly the colour of her door, as well as the colour of mine. It was the reason that I must've been temporarily (and stupidly) lusting over the female Weasley- they were best friends after all, she must've had Grangers scent on her the whole time. It _is _the reason that my eyes always manage to find Granger.

Why hadn't I spent more time looking into it instead of just hoping that everything would fall into place?

274 days it had said that morning when I was having my shower- now, after I had checked it once I came to the private side of the Black Lake, it had 253 written in replacement. That was worrying in itself. Twenty-three days in around fifteen minutes? It was the worse day that I've had by far. Even worse than the dramatic depleting days, was that it had been 112 (98 days if they were dropping naturally, but, of course, I'd lost twenty-eight days due to hurting Granger) since my inheritance and what progress had I made? Well, I've learnt a great deal about Veelas- qualities, behaviour, etc, but that is completely shadowed by the fact that my 'Mate' now probably hates me more than she did. She'll never come near me again- especially not with her bodyguards who are probably going to keep her away from me, and vice versa, with their very last breath. No matter though, I don't particularly expect myself to keep my days dropping at a constant pace if I try to be around her- besides, it wasn't as if I needed to be within a thirty-foot radius of her to stay alive. If I were, I would only die faster.

Oh, no. I've accepted my fate.

I can just imagine that Destiny's hiding somewhere high up in the stormy clouds, watching over me, cackling evilly as she sees me being tortured by all the things that life has thrown at me. I bet she planned it all. She probably got bored giving everyone happy lives, and decided to entertain herself on the destruction of mine. It was probably just a little game to her- to see how long I'd be able to last before I could no longer handle it and ended the dream, or before someone spared my humiliation and did it themselves. No, not the latter- that'd be too generous of her. Too unusual to get some kindness in my life. That's why I'd been paired with a muggle-born when my whole family's against them- _Oh Mother it is a forbidden love indeed..._

I stood up as I felt the first few drops of rain fall on the top of my head. Picking up one last pebble from the shore of the Black Lake, I skipped it with extreme skill across the Lake and then headed towards the oafs hut to ask for the god-forsaken unicorn blood I said I'd get. Why did I even say that I'd get it? Ah, yes, because for some reason that bloody flashback made me unreasonably calm. Bending down as I crossed the hill, I picked up a flower and transfigured it into an umbrella as my clothes started to become drenched.

_Hermione Granger is killing me._

Oh, yes, now that sounded right.

* * *

I checked my watch as lightening crackled across the black sky, from my view of the grounds on the First floor. I had an hour; but what use was that when I had no idea where she'd be? I didn't even know the location of the Ravenclaw common room. I sighed and raked my hand through my hair for the tenth time this morning. I was getting increasingly jittery by the minute, and that wasn't helping me maintain my concentration. Every so often, the Veela in me suddenly flared to life and started to control my thoughts. I, of course, put up one heck of a fight, but after a while, it became tiresome and it gained the upper hand. A couple of times now I had gotten my control back only to realise that I was right outside the Hospital Wing or the Eighth Years common room, with my hand raised, ready to push open the door. How was I meant to survive half a day of classes with everyone, when they might be carrying Grangers scent, if I wasn't able to get myself under control?

It was getting anxious. My fingernails were already bitten down to the nub, and multiple times the skin around it had been chewed off, only to repair and re-grow a minute later. I had no reason to be like this though, well, maybe I had _some _reason. A part of me -the part that I sometimes wish would just leave me alone - was having its protective side come out after the reality of the situation that happened hours ago now, had just started to sink in. I had hurt her, I _know, _but what about me? _I _was the one to pass the pain onto her, where's _my _sympathy? No one asked _me_ if I was all right. No one ordered anyone to make sure that _I _was all right by making sure that I stay in the Tower all day and don't attend classes, or take me to Madam Pomfrey. Alright, fine, I admit that she mostly likely won't be very impressed with being ordered to stay off class, and will probably attend anyway (which worries me more about staying in control if her actual presence is there), but it's the thought that counts, right? I mean, I know that once I'm outside the Tower I'll just be fine again as if nothing ever happened, but no one else knew exactly what would happen apart from Blaise. Then, the other part of me -the part that I greatly prefer - only had reason to care for what happened to Granger was because, like the book said, 'If the Mate happens to die, the Veela will also,' and I'd prefer to use the rest of my short life to my full potential. I wonder if there's a way to stop her from dying, just until my days are used up. Hmm...

Now, back to finding Lovegood. What did she smell like? Maybe I could use my heightened sense to track her down, if that was even a good idea. No one really smelt nice anymore; would I want to assault my nose with a horrible smell for the sole purpose of trying to find someone? No, not really, but what other choice did I have? I have only forty minutes left until the start of class. I tilted my head up so that I could see the ceiling, closed my eyes and took in a big sniff. I felt the Veela inside me practically purr with happiness; the air around me smelt faintly of flowers and something sweet, yet spicy. It smelt of Herm-_Granger. _She'd been here.

Wait, no that wasn't right. If she'd been here, I would've seen her and her scent wouldn't still be lingering about since breakfast- not that I even saw her in the Great Hall that morning...So, where was here? Well, opening my eyes quickly, I took in my surroundings and only just noticed that I had managed to bring myself back to outside the Eighth Years common room. I let out a yell of frustration and punched the wall that I was standing by, just to make sure that I was still able to feel non-magical physical pain- just so I knew that not all my sanity had left me yet. I heard a couple fingers snap, but the only pain that I felt was as intense as someone stomping on your foot was. I just wasn't thinking anymore. Was it just that easy to forget that I had Veela qualities, which meant that my broken fingers snapped back into place an instant later and any pain I'd receive was only a fraction of the amount? Why couldn't the Veela understand or _see _that I genuinely couldn't be bothered to waste my time finding out whether she was OK?

I sighed and raked my hands through my damp hair again. I was hoping to avoid returning to the common room until later tonight when I had no choice but to return to my room; but seeing as I was here already, much to my annoyance, I might as well make some use of it and stop wasting more time. There is only one person that I know who knows where the Ravenclaw common room is and that's Blaise (well, the only person who would actually tell me where it is, is Blaise). Did I really want to risk going in there though? Worse case scenario's kept playing in my mind making myself extremely aware of the fact that everyone saw what happened, like Blaise had said, and they were probably now all out for my blood. In one scenario, there were crushing words coming from the mouths of Potter and Weasley, saying that immediately after I'd been dragged out, Granger was rushed to St Mungos. Would she be in Creature-Induced Injuries or Spell Damage, I found myself wondering, which was just another thing I that I should've realised over the years. I'd always had some sort of curiosity over Granger- I even remember during the summer before Second Year telling my Father lots about her in the form of complaints -why, again, had I only just noticed it now. In another scenario, Granger was lying motionless on the floor why I'd last seen her before I left; there was me being held at wand point by everyone inside- including Blaise - and in a blink of an eye, the Killing Curse was being fired from all nine in unison. But, no. I couldn't let any pathetic fantasies get to me. I am a Malfoy and therefore I am superior, feared, respected and (only just) brave. Squaring my shoulders, and repressing the feeling of dread, I pushed open the door and stepped in.

Blaise was there, kneeling on the floor over the square canvas, covered in paint; on the other side of it, was Longbottom, Bones, Abbott, Patil and Brown. Though there hasn't been a time that I should've been happier not to see Potter and Weasley, their absence was making me somewhat more nervous. Where were they? Did they leave to try track me down, or did they go to the Headmistress to see about getting me my very own cell in Azkaban for a form of torture? After a while of me just standing there, someone noticed my presence but I wish it were anyone but her. She narrowed her eyes as she glared at me, temporarily stopping her artwork on the canvas. "Hermione's a wreck because of you." She hissed. The others looked up when they heard her speak, and their gazes too became fixed on me as they waited for my response. I kept the expression on my face impassive, if not bored, but in the inside questions continued to pop into my head._ What did she mean that Granger is a wreck? How did she know that it was I that did those things? They had no proof! _Luckily, Blaise saved me from answering Patil with some snarky comment that would make her hate me even more.

"We've been through this Patil, what exactly do you think he did to her? Did _you _see him get his wand out and use the Cruciatus Curse on her, because I didn't?"

"I don't doubt that he can use wandless magic. It'd be stupid for me not to admit that he is talented- probably both in legal _and _illegal magic." She replied coldly, never taking her eyes off me.

"Right, okay then Patil," I said sarcastically before Blaise or anyone else had time to put forward their opinion. "So how exactly do you explain the fact that I was being tortured just as bad as Granger? Ah, yes, that's right; I forgot that none of you bastards care. I am only a pathetic Death Eater after all. You just keep trying to think of a proper reason Ravenclaw before you blame me again." Patil's jaw visibly tensed, but she didn't say anything. The others though (Longbottom, Bones, Abbott and Brown), didn't say anything either but they dropped their gazes quickly, uncomfortable with the conversation. About a minute later, Patil did the same, continuing to paint a falling tree. "Blaise, we need to talk. Now. We only have," I quickly checked my watch again, "twenty minutes left." Blaise put down his paintbrush that he was using to paint some grass, and walked over to me without needing to be told more than once.

"What?" He asked void of any emotion. Clearly, he was still mad at me despite sticking up for me only minutes ago, because of my slightly innocent torture on Granger.

I kept my face as blank as his. "I need to know where the Ravenclaw common room is." I whispered so that none of the others could hear.

He gave me a rather haughty look as he had some information that I needed. "Why?" He suspiciously asked.

"I need...let's call it '_advice' _from someone there about, you know, what happened earlier..." I said vaguely in hushed tones again, trying to brush off the question.

"_What happened earlier? _I _thought _that we were going to forget what happened. Wasn't that what _you_ said that you were going to do?" He quietened his voice now, knowing that the rest of the group that hadn't disappeared shouldn't hear this.

"Who could forget something that like _that_? It was horrifyingly painful for me," Blaise just rolled his eyes and looked away in irritation. "Look, no one can ever forget unless you forcibly take their memories. I said to _act _if nothing happened-there's a difference. Either way, I still need to know where the Ravenclaw common room is."

"How do you even know that I somehow know where it is?"

"Two words: Luna. Lovegood." I said matter-of-factly as his eyes widened in shock. "Oh yes. You didn't seriously think that I didn't notice the crush you've had on her for the past four years, did you? You tried to cover it up well, my friend, but I'm far from stupid. Even Patil admitted it. I've known you since I was _born; _it wasn't as if I _wouldn't notice_. You're always eyeing her from the Slytherin table, although you probably don't get a good view because of the Gryffindor _and _Hufflepuff tables-"

"Okay, okay, fine. Just shut up, will you?" Blaise said looking over his shoulder, making sure that everyone was still oblivious. "Thank Merlin no one else has _advanced hearing_. Look, not a word to _anyone, _understand?" I nodded my head, but it didn't look very trustworthy because I could just feel that there was a smirk gracing my lips. "The Ravenclaw common room is on the Fifth floor at the end of the corridor on the west side of the castle. It'll be a door without a keyhole or doorknob, but there is a knocker presumably in the shape of an eagle. You need to answer a riddle, asked by the knocker, to get in."

"You seem to know a lot about the entrance to the common room..." I eyed him warily for a couple of seconds, before breaking into a satisfied grin. "Thanks for the help. It is much appreciated. I'll tell Lovegood that you said 'hello'; I'll be going now, I only have, uh, ten minutes left. Talk to you after class." I turned to walk out of the Tower, but Blaise reached out and grabbed my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. "What?" I asked impatiently. I needed to get to the Ravenclaw common room, guess the riddle and find Lovegood then convince her not to go to class in ten minutes. It was like mission impossible.

"Wait, wait. Are you not going to class?"

"Of course not!" I said if it were obvious, which, really, it should've been. Yes, I attended class the past two days, but completely contradictory to what I said about fate earlier, she seemed to have given me some luck and Granger hadn't been in any of those classes. Now, after Blaise told me that _everyone _had taken Potions, there wasn't any way that I was going to go to that class. Call me paranoid as Granger is probably in her room with her two pathetic 'best friends' or in the Hospital Wing (although if she was still as traumatized as she was earlier, I don't know how she would've been taken to either of those places) with the small possibility that she _might not _actually be attending class, but I'd rather not take the chance. Besides, if you can't be honest with yourself then you're in some serious denial, so let's be honest; Granger is most definitely going to class. "I'm not ready to be in class with, um, like I said- talk to you after class." I said quickly as I saw that Longbottom had gained some sudden interest with our conversation. Yep, I was definitely paranoid. It was as if he could tell what we were saying...I narrowed my eyes in Longbottoms direction, giving him a venomous glare that made him turn away quickly, and then all but ran to the door to escape his grasp.

* * *

I approached the end of the corridor and, just as he had said, there was the almost bear door with only an eagle shaped knocker. I had reached out to touch it, to knock on the door with it, when it blearily opened its bronze eyes and blinked a couple of times as if it had truly been asleep. I didn't seem to notice that I wasn't a Ravenclaw, however, the few portraits that were on the floor were giving me suspicious looks as if I were about to forcibly break in and start going on a killing rampage. Which, I might do- minus the killing rampage part -if I have to wait for some random Ravenclaw to come back to their common room and let me in, although it was more that unlikely that they'd do anything for me. Thinking about it though, the Ravenclaw common room could be the easiest common room to break into, as you didn't need a password, only an answer to a riddle. If you were intelligent enough to give the correct response, then anyone could get in. Although, I guess that there was only an answer needed to get in because if someone did possess such wit or intelligence, then they would've been sorted into Ravenclaw in the first place.

Rowena Ravenclaw was an _extremely _intelligent woman for creating her common room entrance like this. It had obviously taken much thought. _I wonder if Granger would be able to answer the-_

No, no. Where did that thought even come from? I shouldn't be thinking of things like that. Sure, she was clever- how else did she get the title of The Brightest Witch of Her Age -but her wit shouldn't be something that I should be thinking of so casually without some sort of ulterior motive. "If the answer is ten, then what is the question?" The knocker asked, eyeing me critically. Thankfully, there was no time limit to answering the question, but I knew that any Ravenclaw would answer it quickly, and, therefore, that was what I was aiming to do. What kind of question was that anyway? There were so many answers. It could be how many trolls are left in England? Not that I actually know whether there is actually ten or not, but, it _could _be a plausible question depending on what the actual answer is. It could be; where are the Appleby Arrows in the Quidditch league? But, then again, it couldn't be that question because it'd mean the answer was tenth not _ten._ How many fingers do I have? Well, no. Probably not that one either- it'd be too easy; too simple. Damn, this was difficult. How many unicorn hairs do you have to put in Veritaserum to make it turn a toxic shade of purple? No...That wouldn't be right either. All right, time to think about this seriously and not just randomly guess. Right, so- if there is an answer, there has to be a question. However, that doesn't really narrow it down as to what sort of question it could be. It could be Muggle related for all I know. It could even just be simple math, like what's 2x5? Ten. _Unless_ there isn't an answer, which means that no question exists. However, that isn't correct in the least because I was specifically told that the answer _was ten. What if it was lying to me? It could be a trick question. _Now that-_that _seemed more like something it would do. On the other hand, maybe that was a bit _too _Slytherin...I stared calculatingly at the knocker for about a minute, thinking about a riddle more logically. Since it was a riddle, it needed all attention and concentration directed at it as with riddles you always needed to look at it from a different perspective, or to try to wiggle out of it. After a while of just staring, the answer finally came to me, and I was proud in myself for thinking up such an answer- if it's right that is.

"Trick question. There can't be an answer if a question doesn't exist to provide you with one." I stated confidently. It stared at me with its metal, beady eyes for a second longer, before breaking into an odd beak-y grin. The knocker didn't congratulate me, only swung outward and allowed me entrance to the Ravenclaw common room. I just stood there for a while in a daze. _Did I actually get that right? Did I actually answer a riddle specifically for a Ravenclaw correctly? I was somewhat worthy of being a Ravenclaw?_ That last realisation was surprising to say the least. Hesitantly, I stepped into the common room and was surprised to find- probably the most airy room in the castle- empty. Well, _close _to empty, but everyone that was in the common room was either too busy reading, studying or working to actually notice my appearance but the others who did were in the younger years and wouldn't dare stand up to someone like me. Looking around at all the students, I didn't notice any sight of Lovegood. I was about to step forward, further into the common, and was considering going up the rest of Ravenclaw Tower to see if she was in a dormitory, but I decided against it. There were wards on the stairs so that the boys couldn't go into the girls rooms, so there wasn't any way for me to be able to get to her if she was there...What now? I took my wand out and tapped it against my leg, making white sparks shoot out of it, and contemplated just walking into the common room further and start questioning people to whether they'd seen her. I checked my watch again quickly, as if it was becoming some sort of nervous habit. No one actually seemed to be in a hurry to get to class; maybe they had a free period next? Footsteps echoing down the spiral staircase to the top of the Tower on the other side of the room drew my attention to them. Maybe it was Lovegood? As soon as I saw the black trouser leg, though, followed by the tall muscular body, I knew it most definitely wasn't her. He was laughing with his friend who was behind him, but the sound stopped as soon as his eyes set their gaze on me. His body stiffed and his eyes hardened into a glare as he stalked over to me. A sadistic smirk appeared on my lips at the obvious confrontation between the Ravenclaw and me. The way he moved with such purpose made me consider his place in Ravenclaw; he looked like he could be so much more suited to Gryffindor, maybe even Slytherin if I knew his blood status. He was roughly the same height as me, maybe even a bit taller, but the way he stood in quite close quarters to me, it made him seem taller than he was. The boy didn't look as if he belonged in Sixth Year or Seventh, but to say he was in Fifth seemed questionable due to his size. However, his friend that didn't follow him towards me looked as if he belonged in Fifth Year and they were conversing as if they'd known each other in such a way that it was clear that they were in the same year.

"How'd _you _get in Malfoy?" He spat my name as if it held an unpleasant taste in his mouth. My smirk widened as I held his fierce gaze. It was as if _he _was challenging _me _to a fight. If only he knew that no matter how strongly he was built, I was stronger- physically and magically. The others in the common room seemed to have only just noticed my presence and the atmosphere suddenly became tense, as if they knew what was going to happen.

"Pretty simple really, you remember your pathetic little entrance to your common room," I said, tapping the door that was still open behind me, with my wand, making more white sparks fly. "Well, you're not the only intelligent people in this school."

"No one expects Death Eaters to have much of a brain. After all, that's what they all did, didn't they? Follow him _brainlessly._ Kill _mindlessly." _He hissed, and although I was faintly amused at being caught in an argument with a Ravenclaw, it didn't stop the irritation from clawing its way to the front of my mind. The smirk dropped from my face, replaced by a look of mild anger.

"Well, this brainless Death Eater is looking for someone. Perhaps you know where she is." I replied coldly, looking over his shoulder at the others in the room. "Any of you happen to know where Lovegood is?" Everyone looked away, mumbling to their friends or staying silent as if they didn't know whether they should give up her location or they truly didn't know. "Ah, so none of you are willing to share your secrets. Very Ravenclaw of you; if you don't share your knowledge, who can be smarter than you are? That does sound quite selfish though, don't you think? Quite _Slytherin- _a bit like me. Not sharing you knowledge so no one can have power of you, because, after all, knowledge is power and power _corrupts._ And, we all know how much you love us _brainless Slytherin Death Eaters, especially me._" Most flinched at my tone- at the realisation of what I said that was true to some extent. The Houses weren't all that different. We have the same qualities, we just use them differently. Nevertheless, there comes a point where the line blurs to a point where it could be hard to tell a difference between them- Ravenclaw and Slytherin for instance. What I said, however, obviously wasn't the correct thing to say, as some looked angry at the comparison, preferring to deny the truth- as the Fifth Year boy who was talking to me seemed. "Her bloody imaginary creatures carry her off to some unknown place that holds the secrets of the universe?"

It was as if it happened in slow motion. The Fifth Year boy swung round from looking at the others as I had been, and slammed me against the wall. His hands that had tightly gripped my robes where as close as they could get to my throat, red through the tightness of his hold. His face was quite close to mine in a threatening way and was breathing heavily due to his rage. For the benefit of him, I didn't even act as if I could throw him halfway across the room or that the attack didn't hurt. Because, like I said, if they didn't know that the attack was pointless because I was stronger than they could imagine, they couldn't use their intelligence to discover what I was and therefore, wouldn't gain any power over me. Although, that was a bit contradictory as well because, right now, the Fifth Year literally had power over me. Amusement suddenly returned and was dancing in my eyes, angering him further, I'm sure of it. Now though, my irritation was rapidly growing as if this was some kind of unfortunate inconvenience that's stopped me from achieving something higher, which, really, it was. "We are nothing like you." He growled. "We _aren't traitors."_

"Don't talk about what you don't know, _Fifth Year. _Whom do you think _created _new spells for The Dark Lord? Only a corrupted Ravenclaw with such a thirst for knowledge it made him power hungry would've been able to create something like that. Life's tricky to understand, don't act if everyone has a _choice."_ I spat, looking defiantly in the eye.

"Don't talk down to me as if I'm too young to understand now what's been happening since my First Year till last. As if I don't know about _war _when I fought for my life last year because you came along and-"

"How _cute. _A Fourth Year that knew how to fight for his life." I said sarcastically, interrupting him. But, before he could blink, I grabbed the front of his robes and whirled him around, slamming his back to the wall harder than he had for me, switching our positions. "I wonder whether your Fifth Year self has as much luck." Shock registered on his face, but it wasn't the kind to suspect me of being half of something else. I didn't do it with so much supernatural speed that it was concerning, but with my less bulky build, the use of my strength was different. He quickly got over it, anger evident once again on his face, but pain seemed to merge it as I heard a faint sizzle coming from where I was holding his robes. It seemed that, although there was no fire showing on my hands, they still had the power to burn as if they did. The others could see it too, I could tell, but that didn't stop me, even when one of them ordered another to go get someone called 'Anastasia' who was in her room. _Good, hopefully someone to give me answers. Maybe I should've just started off with this. _Only moments later, fast footfalls were heard coming down the stairs as if they were in a hurry to stop someone's death. Well, maybe they were. I didn't need to look, I could hear everything perfectly- I knew when she stepped onto the carpet, gasped and lightly ran toward me with purpose -instead, I just continued to burn the boy's robes.

I heard her suck in a breath as if she was scared, but her voice sounded loud, confident and haughty in the almost silence of the common room, "I see your still Slytherin even though you clearly possess enough logic of a Ravenclaw to enter; so, I hope that my offer appeals to both sides of your mind. Give me back my brother, and I'll give you the location of Luna. A trade for a trade- each of us gets exactly what we came to this common room for." I lightened my hold on her brother's robes, the hiss of burning material becoming lighter, but I didn't let go yet. Looking from _Anastasia _to her brother, I tried to look for a family resemblance of some sort, but there were barely any. It was more as if they were just friends that _happened _to have some similarities. He was tall and bulky; she was short with a thin frame. His hair was blonde; hers was black. The only thing similar about them was perhaps their face shape, eyes and maybe even nose but as I had described- that's where it stopped. I scoffed, it was clear that I was going to hand the useless boy over for information but the longer I held on, the more anxious Anastasia seemed to get- as if she thought it was the wrong negotiation. I threw the boy over to her; he stumbled but didn't fall and moved so that he stood slightly in front of his sister, although she was obviously the eldest. She didn't look at her brother with any relief, instead glared at him as if it was my fault that I was in the common room in the first place.

"My reward? I let the runt go without harm, well," I said arrogantly as I looked over at him. Two holes the size of oranges had been burned on the front of his robes, and a few red welts were visible on his showing skin. "He'll recover."

She narrowed her eyes at me, clearly not impressed by my attitude. It was as if she was the mother figure to all the Ravenclaws the way that she addressed people and the looks of disappointment she gave. "Shouldn't you be in class, Malfoy, what are you doing looking for Luna?" She demanded, although it sounded more as if she was reprimanding me.

"Wouldn't you want to know." I smirked at her, but instead of the annoyed reaction that I'd gotten from her brother, her expression didn't change. It was as if I was just a little bug that she'd love no more than to stomp on. "However, that is not part of our deal."

"Just wondering what-"

"Evil I'm planning to set upon her? Of course you are. But would you really be so naive as to believe that I'd tell_ you?"_

She smiled tightly, erasing all annoyance from her face for the time being. She acted as if she were older than I was, as if she was old enough not to be at Hogwarts. "I don't believe you know how I am. I'm Anastasia Innes, and this is my brother Jayson. I'm the eldest Ravenclaw- that's still residing in the Ravenclaw Tower. Our mother works at Azkaban prison and when your father managed to wiggle his way out of being convicted and thrown into one of the cells, she was- what's the word? -_unhappy._ You see, your father killed ours. You can see the reason for _hate_. Now, Luna is one of my good friends so it's only friendly concern on what you want with her." It sounded as if she was trying with difficulty to keep her voice impassive.

"So much trust you put in me Innes, but I must say that I am _not _my father." It was true- just in a warped way. I was not my father because I know that I'm not going to be happy with my Mate. I was not my father because She wasn't a Pureblood or in Slytherin. I wasn't my father for a number of reasons, most similar to my examples. "I'm not going to explain my reasons, but she won't be found dead if that's what you're worrying over. No more probing into reasons Innes," I said as I saw her open her mouth, about to interrupt. "I trust your smart enough to know when you've lost."

"Fine," She sighed as if she was suddenly exhausted. She looked behind her shoulder to see the other students who were still paying complete attention to what was happening. "Crystal, go get Luna. Tell her that Malfoy's waiting for her." A small girl jumped up from the navy sofa and flew up the stairs.

"I'm waiting for her? That sounds a bit personal, don't you think?"

"You _are _here for a personal reason though, aren't you?" She seemed to be probing a bit more subtly into my reasons. I only gave her a disapproving look, which just seemed to ignite her curiosity. She looked like she wanted to ask something desperately and it seemed before she could stop herself, blurted, "Don't tell me she's your girlfriend."

I was shocked at the statement, or more like plea and it took me a second to form a careful answer. "I don't wish to offend, but she'll never be. Not that it's any of your business, but I've already been..._promised _someone; at the moment though it's...complicated." Her curiosity never seemed to cease, but before she was able to ask anything more about me, Lovegood had shown.

She had a gentle smile on her face as she walked with a skip in her step up towards me. "Afternoon Draco. You look troubled." She said quietly. I could see that even the others by her struggled to catch every word that left her mouth, but I could hear her clearly. I didn't hesitate when I answered her- didn't even think about the abnormality of the fact that it shouldn't be possible.

"Hello Lovegood. Just troubled over..." I trailed off, looking at the curious as well as shocked faces of all Ravenclaws gathered in front of me, then giving a very pointed look at Lovegood. "Something. Meaning that I have now cracked the illusion." She gave me a look that said she understood, but didn't move or say anything. "Well, uh, I think we should leave, I don't particularly think that anyone wants me here longer than I should be." I sneered in Jayson's direction; he only glared back at me. "No one's in my common room -we'll go there -of course we'll have to go somewhere else later. Ahem, I'll explain everything on the way there." I said, feeling slightly awkward at the innuendos that were in the sentence. Luckily, Lovegood didn't seem fazed by it.

"Okay then," She said and walked out of the door, not even stopping to open it because it hadn't been closed the entire time I was there. I followed her out, and once the door to the common room was closed, and we were at the other end of the corridor, I began to explain everything to her. How I discovered that Granger is my Mate (which, oddly she seemed to have known); how I tortured her selfishly hours ago with my power of transference and how I'm the rare few that can throw fire and that I can grow wings. I didn't forget either to tell her how I need her help to learn to keep my Veela under control if ever I come into the presence of Granger outside the common room and the little 'hello' from Blaise.

The whole time though, I wasn't aware of the presence of any portraits that could overhear or eavesdrop on my secrets.

* * *

"You'll do this for me, Lovegood, won't you? Don't think of it as stealing; all you're doing is borrowing something of hers to _help _me. If it's going to help me in some way, surely then, you understand that you _have _to do this for me." I pleaded -well, not _pleading _exactly as Malfoy's never _pleaded _or begged; it was more like I _persuaded. _She gave me another dreamy look, which I think I managed to work out that it meant that she was thinking about something, and with a little sigh that held no emotion, she ascended the stairs and stopped outside the red door. We didn't really know whether Hermione was in her room, the Hospital Wing or actually in class, but we assumed that she was in her room and so, as one of Granger's friends, I had persuaded Luna to go see if she could enter her room and before leaving, take something of hers. For such a mellow-looking and wispy sounding girl, she sure knew how to put up a good argument. It had taken ten minutes of just going back and forth in argumentative hushed voices to make her agree.

From my hiding place on the balcony, I placed myself so strategically that if they both came downstairs, they wouldn't see me, I strained my ears to try to hear what was happening. I heard Lovegood knock on the door, which was followed by a long pause of almost-silence, before I heard the door open, and then close seconds later; apart from those distinct sounds, all I could hear was the raging wind howl in my ears and the voices from those who were out on the Hogwarts grounds. It wasn't much of a distraction, as I had learnt to block out sounds that I don't want to hear, but the real problem was that the Charms were _in _the Tower which meant that, outside- even if it was the balcony that was part of the Eighth Year Tower -my Veela senses still worked perfectly, you know, _if _what I wanted to hear was outside. However, what I wanted to hear was inside, which meant that the Charms were affecting my 'natural' senses again, but not completely as they usually did as I wasn't actually in the Tower, but, like I said, outside; that meant that my hearing was still strong, but muffled. Less than half an hour later, I saw Lovegood reappear- thankfully a_lone -_ in the common room and started to look about curiously, as if I had turned invisible. Grinning when I saw the slightly tatty Gryffindor scarf in her hand- which I could sense smelt lightly of spice and some other unknown essence - I opened the sliding doors and stepped back into the common room, feeling almost blind when the scent of the scarf suddenly vanished and confused at why I was grinning in the first place. She didn't seem surprised to see me, and just stood and waited for me to walk over to her. Once I reached her, I, of my own rightful mind, had a sudden urge to take the scarf and smell it whilst I was still in the common room, just curious to know what it would smell like to someone with a dulled sense- or more like, someone with a _normal _sense of smell. I reached out to grab it out of her hand, but my hands had only just brushed the tassels before she jerked it away and into the hand furthest from where I was. "If you have it, you won't want to let go of it once we're outside, and then where would that get us?" She said in a clam tone as we reached the door that exited the Tower. She opened it without any hesitation and almost seemed to bounce down the steps. _I, _on the other hand, was having second thoughts.

_Maybe...Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. _A side of me argued. _What if I can't control what I do- what I do to Lovegood? She's only a girl, and no more than half my height._

_No, it _is _a good idea. You have to do this. You don't want constant repeats of what happened in the library, do you? _The other part argued. I had to admit though, that _this _side's argument didn't exactly make it easier to decide which voice to listen to. Do I continue or not?

_You said you wouldn't harm her to the Ravenclaw girl, if you carry on with this, then you most likely will. Not that you'd remember what happens after you Veela takes over, but still._

_Actually, I said that Lovegood wouldn't be found dead, and, right now, I doubt that that would ever happen. But, later on in life, who knows what you might do? You could end up killing someone- like Granger's husband perhaps? If you saw Granger with her husband -who's not you -what could your protective, jealous side do as soon as you see them, or get a whiff of her scent? Power is about control._

Now the second voice had solid reasoning, and that, with the threats it used, made me decide my answer; no matter the consequences. What _if _I did accidentally kill someone? Blaise had a pretty close run-in; he could certainly see where the overhanging threat was. Taking in a deep breath, I all but threw myself out of the door after Lovegood, before I had the chance to turn back.

My head became fuzzy, like it was filled with cotton wool, but other parts of it were still working almost normally; like my thought processes that w_eren't _coming from the Veela. Of course, there was still that alluring scent that made me walk close to a jog down the stairs after Lovegood, as it drew me in like a moth to a flame, but it was all I could do not to run at top speed towards it. Although, there was a part of it that was actually repelling me, for once. There was this underlying smell of a cat, but not just that, it was that for some reason, I could smell that the cat was close to death. I found myself wondering, _Is the same cat that Granger suddenly appeared with in Third Year? The big, fat ginger one with the face that made it look like it had run at the wrong wall at Kings Cross. Was it even her cat that was dying? _ It was only then, when the last thought had been formed, that another had taken its place. _Why do I even care?_ It wasn't as if I was going to play an important role in Grangers life; now or in the future. That was why I want to get my bloody mind under control- so I don't have to have anything to do with her. _Ever_.

I almost tripped and fell on the last step as the concentration of staying in control had started to take its toll. I looked up and down the corridors, but there was an absence of a certain blonde Ravenclaw; where she went, I have no idea. All I knew at that moment was that the red and gold scarf was just lying on the ground. Except, it wasn't a scarf, not really. I mean, it _looked _like a scarf, but it was just one of those things where you look at it and without a seconds hesitation you go, _Hermione. That's Hermione. _It also looked like a life source, no matter how unusual the life source was- it just was one. There was just this urge, this great pull, that wanted- no _needed _-me to pick it up, keep it as close to me as possible and just inhale the life giving essence, which, obviously, was Hermione. I wanted to go to it, but to do that would not be the reason it was there in the first place. _Resist._However, that wasn't exactly so simple to do. It was drawing me in like a fish on the end of a hook, and to pull away when your snagged, isn't the easiest thing to do. Subconsciously, I found myself walking towards the scarf, however, I was still continuing to resist, so my gait wasn't as smooth as it usually is; it made it look as if my right leg was dead by the way it almost trailed behind me. By the strain I felt on my face, I was sure that it was scrunched up in annoyance or concentration but it was more or less useless. Luckily, this time, my rejection to going towards the scent didn't cause me a headache. Maybe it was because it was so close to me? Maybe because it wasn't actually _her _as opposed to something that she possessed that smelt of her- and the dying cat. Whatever the reason, it wasn't so important for me to dwell on and try to figure out, but to be just thankful that it wasn't happening and so it was making it easier on my part. See, that was the difference between me and Granger- when something unusual happened she wants to know _why, _even if it's a good thing; when something unusual happens to me- _fine I admit -_I'd try figure out why too (especially if I have reason to be suspicious), but when it's something good, I don't question it. It's probably one of the many reasons why I can't be with her. Soon enough, I found myself reaching down and gently picking up the scarf. The smell of it was just overwhelming now that I was close to it. It was as if she wore it every day. It was a drug, _definitely, _and one that I didn't particularly mind getting addicted to. Well, for as long as I'm alive that is.

I'd just bought it to my face -because of another strange urge to just rub the fabric against my check, and inhale the smell -when a _Stupefy _was shot from around the corner, hitting my hand that caused it to spasm, and drop the scarf. _So, this is what Lovegood is doing. She's conditioning me into not...picking it up? _The _Stupefy _didn't affect me like it should've, perhaps because I have a high magic threshold now, but it sent a feeling, like a jolt of electricity, firing throughout my body. It temporarily sent me out of my state, and I only just realised how stupid I'd been to let myself get so far. I daresay that if Granger were truly there, there might not be anything that could bring me back round to my proper state. What would she do, I wonder, if such a thing were to happen? Would she figure out immediately what I am, and then finish piecing the clues together to discover that she's my Mate? Would she attack me with every curse and hex she knew out of fear, confusion or suspicion? _The only way to find out is to let it happen..._

_No, that would only end in disaster._ But, would it though? If I was constantly in my Veela, would she just accept that it was out of my hands and therefore just end up with me, to satisfy me or to save my life? Would it _even _be easier that way?

I heard the faint sound of fabric padding to the floor. Looking down by my feet, I saw that the red and gold scarf was pooled by my feet. I lost concentration, _again_. This was just getting frustrating! After I let out a growl of annoyance, I felt that my hands were steadily heating up. Quickly I tried to force my frustration to go- that, again, was easier said than done - by chanting repeatedly in my head, '_This is progress, there's nothing irritating about progress.' _I'd once heard somewhere, that the more oxygen that you have in your blood, the calmer you are, so I was taking in big, long breaths of air; and although feeling quite light-headed, I guess I felt mildly calmer as well. I also shook my hands, as if the cold air could stop them from turning into flame. It worked, albeit slowly and soon my hands returned back to their normal temperature. I stepped over the scarf and repeated the process of trying to resist.

* * *

They were all staring at me. I could tell, even with my eyes closed.

I was stretched out on the sofa, which meant that most seats in the room were taken up in the room because of me. It didn't leave them any reason to just stare though, that was just plain rude. I could hear them whispering as well, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. Sometimes it was no fun to have my qualities stripped from me when I couldn't hear if people were gossiping about me, perhaps planning to kill me or just telling secrets that I could so easily use for blackmail. They were just probably discussing what a whole waste of space I am, and why I didn't turn up for lessons why I seems so perfectly fine.

I'd been here, mentally planning something and eavesdropping as best as I could, since I came back from what you could call a 'successful training session' with Lovegood. I'd gotten angry a couple of times, and, just for the fun of it, 'tested' how much damage my fireballs could do to the wall- also not forgetting that I had sneakily just passed most of my anger into passersby and if I had any leftover, I'd use it on Lovegood for entertainment purposes. She, of course, wasn't too happy (it had nothing to do with _my _anger this time) about me just transferring it into everyone instead of just trying to find a way to calm myself down and combined with the fact that making her irritable wasn't helping with my 'training'. By the end of it though, I had managed to make it around just a bit over halfway to Lovegood from one side of the corridor to the other, before lapsing back into my Half-Veela state. It was an improvement, I guess, but progress needed to move faster as I couldn't just avoid Potions forever.

I didn't need my Veela hearing to make out the sound of the common room door opening, and I didn't need to open my eyes to know it was Blaise who was entering. Everyone else was already in the common room, well, not Potter or Weasley, but that was only because they're in Granger's room checking on her and most likely handing back her scarf that was outside her door where I left it. Seeing the light dim from behind my eyelids, I opened one eye to see Blaise looking down at me. I was about to open my mouth to say something, but he beat me to it.

"Did you know since you haven't shown up for at least three of your Potions classes that you're failing?" He didn't try to lower his voice, so after his little rhetorical question, everyone in the bloody room lapsed into silence, eavesdropping on our conversation.

I stood up fluidly, brushing some of my hair out of my face, and glared at him. "It is only to be expected, since, as you say, I haven't showed up to any lessons, but I hardly doubt that so much has happened that the new Potions Master is failing me." I replied, trying to keep my voice void of emotion. I was, obviously, slightly worried that it had only been about a week- give or take a few days -at school and I was already failing one subject no thanks to trying to adapt to my inheritance. I'd often dabbled in the thought of becoming a Healer over the summer at the Manor, something to make the Malfoy name look good after all the darkness it has begun to be associated with, and not getting any less than an Exceeds Expectations in Potions isn't going to help in becoming a Healer. He was about to say something again, but this time I spoke before the words escaped his lips. "And, you shouldn't worry because I am working on attending- eventually. Besides," I dropped my voice to a whisper, "McGonagall understands that there are reasons that I need to just stay in here for a whole day sometimes, and so, I'm sure she can't be letting me fail that badly. Now, there's something that I need to discuss with you." I turned away from him and headed towards the staircases, not bothering to look behind me to see if he was following because I knew that he would. Without waiting, I climbed the stairs and unlocked the door to my room, holding it open for Blaise to enter before closing it and placing and Silencing Charm on the door so that no one could listen in. "Something you want to tell me?" I asked pointedly, folding my arms across my chest.

"Excuse me?" He asked clearly confused at the question that made perfect sense to me.

"Don't go all shy on me now, Blaise. I _know _you have _something _you need to tell me regarding my Mate. You think I can't piece all the facts together to discover that you're keeping something secret from me?"

Blaise still didn't say anything.

"Well, let's start from the first day back, shall we? Remember when I insulted Granger which resulted in me having an attack, which _I had thought _was because of a hex thrown at me by her stupid friends, and you tried to tell me when I woke that it wasn't a hex? Oh yes, I remember _that_. You've known all this time, haven't you? It's beginning to make me wonder whether you were ever planning on telling me when this time it _is _potentially a life-or-death situation!" I ranted angrily. I mean, I couldn't help but be angry with him. Was he just going to sit back and watch me die when he could've saved me from all this pain all along?

He looked almost shocked that I had managed to piece together everything, but quickly wiped the look off his face lest it caused me to get angrier. "I _was _going to tell you, when it seemed that your days were practically gone and you were still convinced that it was Weaslette, but recently it seemed as if you'd figured it out yourself, so I didn't bother." He said, but when he looked at my face, he changed the topic into something that seemed as if it wouldn't annoy me as much. "So, after all those pain attacks you've finally come to the terms that _it is _actually Granger then?"

"Yes." I said curtly. "As a matter of fact, the discovery that it is Granger is something that I wanted to talk to you with. Something I need your help with."

"Is it how to propose to Granger, because, I'm telling you mate as a good friend, that she hates you and in no way is she going to say yes- even if you _do _use your Veela Charms." He scoffed.

"_No, I am _not _looking to-_ Wait. What? _Veela Charms?" What the bloody hell were 'Veela Charms'?_

"Err...yeah. Haven't you read about them? No? Oh, well, basically it says that every time a Veela touches their Mate they fall under the Veela's control. I guess it's kind of like using the Imperius Curse on someone, but you can only use it on one specific person and it only works as long as you're touching them in some way..."

"That's interesting..." I murmured mostly to myself. It was certainly another advantage to being a Veela, having complete and utter control over someone; especially since my someone is Granger. There were definitely some ways where I could just exploit the 'quality' so she does my work or something. I'll need some time to think about how I could use it considering there would have to be a way for me to keep contact with her in some way. "Anyway, back to what I need your help with. In around 253 days time or maybe earlier- depending on how often I shall encounter Granger -I shall be found dead. I want you to plan my funeral."

"Seriously?" Blaise asked incredulously. "Just because it's Granger, you're...giving up? I thought you valued your life!"

"I _did. _But now that I know it's her, and there is no way in hell that she is _ever _going to be charmed by _me, I _am accepting my imminent death and making sure that when the time comes that my funeral is well planned out, okay?"

"Oh how the mighty have fallen," Blaise muttered sarcastically. "You're not meant to just _accept _death when there's a way around it. That's not self-preservation at all!"

"Oh shut up and listen Blaise," I snapped. "I want everyone to write a speech worshipping my life; owl our other friends to tell them about it when the time comes, and find someone to write one for Goyle. Invite everyone we've ever known from Hogwarts- mud-_muggleborns _(I might as well get used to it so I don't have any more pain attacks), half-bloods, purebloods, Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors -the lot of them. Make sure all my family come, obviously, and your top priority is to make sure the _Golden Trio _come. Then, during the ceremony I want you to make it known to everybody gathered that Granger is the cause of my death- you can unleash then the fact that I was a Half-Veela and what that means to the cause of my death and Granger's fault. I want it to be on her conscience that she could've kept me alive and that she's the reason I'm dead. Oh, and going back to the speeches, get the Golden Trio to say something nice about me too."

"...Wait...you want _me _to do a funeral for _you _and tell _everyone there _that it's all _Granger's fault _that you _died _when really, it's _yours _because _you didn't want to try to save yourself? _I can't lie at a funeral! _And _if I do that, the Golden Girl's reputation is going to be ruined- well, it might not be _that _ruined considering that you were a Death Eater and now everyone hates you and wants you dead...But still!"

"What? So you won't do this _one thing _for me, even as a death wish?"

"Well, if you're ending up dead in however-many-days, Malfoy, then it's your entire fault because you don't _want _to stop yourself from dying. Look, there is only _one _way that I will comply to your pathetic death wish, and I doubt you're going to agree to it, so you better find someone else to do this funeral for you." Blaise stood up from his perch on the chair by the window and began to leave the room. Before he could reach the door though, I stood in front of him, blocking his exit. But, did I even _want to hear his proposal? _I could just easily get someone else to do my funeral for me; someone who will willingly put the blame on Granger. My request wasn't even _that _impossible or horrendous, was it? I just wanted _someone _to care for my well-being, and if it takes putting the guilt on someone else and my death, then so be it.

I sighed. "What's your proposition then?"

"I'll do whatever you want me to do for your funeral, _if _you _die _trying to get Granger to like you. You may have given up mate, but I haven't. I refuse to let another one of my best mates die. _I will not _do this death wish funeral for you, _unless _you actually _try _to get Granger to like you. I don't care how you do it Draco, as long as you try in some way." He pleaded, which was strange for me because I've never heard Blaise plead for anything. Maybe he was right; maybe it was too soon for another one of our friends to die. However, getting Granger to actually _like me, _maybe even _fall in love with me _so we can bond or something to stop my life from ending- that was near impossible. There was basically no point in even trying because I know I won't succeed. Why would she _ever _fall in love with an Ex-Death Eater? More to the point, an Ex-Death Eater that just watched as she got tortured in front of him, and picked on her since day one? He was right, though. It is too soon for someone else to die, and I would never trust anyone else to prepare my funeral; after all, Blaise and I have known each other the longest. No one knows me like he does.

I regarded him in a haughty manner as I weighed out the pros and cons of agreeing once more before I gave my answer. _Was it really worth it? _  
"For once in your life Draco, _be _compassionate like your Mate. For once in your life, be a Gryffindor and just be brave enough to take the risk of rejection. For once in your life, do something for someone else. Don't die Draco. Don't."

"I never knew that guilt trapping was your kind of thing Blaise." I said sarcastically, which earned me an eye roll. "Fine. I'll do it. For a month _only _though. If she still hates me after a month, I'm going back to giving up.

* * *

**Please review! 3**


	12. Avoidance Isn't So Easy

**A/N- Oh Merlin, I bet you thought I had abandoned this story...Well I haven't and I don't see myself abandoning it anytime soon! So, here's my explanation to why it took so long:**

**Omfg, I am SO sorry for not updating for this long! I know there's like, no excuse for it, but I had birthday parties to go to for two following weekends, then family came round for a whole weekend, I had lots of homework (essay writing. yay!) and other things. But I've finished this chapter today and the next one will hopefully be up quicker than this time!**

Oh, and, Happy Mothers Day! 3

* * *

Four days later, and the portrait had really progressed now that Draco was being uncharacteristically quiet (as was Hermione) and not provoking fights with everyone, choosing to mostly keep to himself and Blaise. Between themselves four days ago, it seemed that Neville, Hannah, Susan, Padma, Lavender and Blaise had come to some sort of agreement of what the portrait should look like and had already planned it out on the canvas. It meant that less time was being wasted, which gave everyone more time to think of other things concerning their task - such as discussing what they could add to it, what characteristics they could give or, most importantly, how it would work.

"When this painting is finished, the door on the wall will be gone- replaced by stone, for it will no longer be needed- and the portrait will be in its position," Hannah said. "There's just the matter now of how we'd enter. Would we have a password?"

Everyone was silent for a few moments as people contemplated what they thought of the idea.

"No," Said Harry as he looked around at the Gryffindors and two Slytherins that were scattered about the room. "The majority of us have had six years of passwords. Surely they wouldn't be missed." His answer was met with murmurs of agreement from the remaining two houses and slow, understanding nods from everyone else.

"I agree with Potter," Blaise piped in, being the only one who confidently spoke his thoughts in more than a mutter. He then looked around at everyone, a 'cheerful' smile splitting his face and proudly said, "What about a riddle in honour of the only Ravenclaw in Eighth Year? What say you, Patil?"

To say that she was surprised to be addressed directly, was putting it a bit lightly. Her mouth gaped slightly and she looked wildly around the room, looking as if she was searching for something or some_one - _as if she had momentarily forgotten that she was the only Ravenclaw that had decided to return. She regained her composure quickly and said, "As nice as the offer is Zabini, no. I, like you, wouldn't miss having to answer riddles to enter the common room unlike I've been doing for my time at Hogwarts. It'd be nice for a change."

Now, although Draco didn't voice his opinion, he was, for once, in agreement with Padma. He made sure to hide his relief however-, which wasn't so difficult as Draco had been a master of facade since his early childhood-because it would've looked rather suspicious for him to be showing relief over the denial of something that was specifically Ravenclaw. He had had only one encounter with a Ravenclaw entrance riddle, and, although he managed to crack it, it was tiresome to think about to say the least. If she'd chosen to accept the 'honour', Draco would've felt even more murderous towards Padma than he already was.  
Turning to the two Hufflepuffs, Padma asked, "What about you Susan and Hannah? What do the Hufflepuffs do? I've never known."

"On the right hand side of the kitchen corridor, there are some barrels," Susan said slowly, glancing at Hannah out of the corner of her eye. "You must tap them in a certain order and rhythm to gain entrance. We'd hate to cause even more of a problem-"

"-But we'd rather not tap to get in for the same reasons as the rest of you," Hannah finished.

That lulled everyone into another short silence as they contemplated once more, about what they could do since all the signature entrances they'd ever known were shot down. Out of all the problems that the ten of them had discovered since they started on the portrait over a week ago, this was the most difficult problem to sort out of them all. What were they supposed to do? They were all opposed to using their own house entrances, so what new entrance could they possibly create?

"So, we'll create a new way. A new way to enter that hasn't been used before," Ron said trying to be cheerful about the difficult problem and breaking the silence.

"Right," muttered Hermione, the first time she'd spoken since they'd met that morning. "Shouldn't be too hard."

And that was how their morning was spent - brainstorming ideas on how it was supposed to work.

* * *

Ever since Draco had promised to Blaise that he'd try to get along with Hermione, he hadn't uttered a single word to her and they were desperately staying as far away from each other as possible - even more than they used to. And, amazingly, in this non-spoken agreement between the two, they were getting along better than they had been for years.

Of course, not speaking to each other wasn't exactly ruining either of their lives, so it was a win-win situation. She wasn't getting hurt and, more importantly in his mind, he wasn't either.

As I said, it was win-win.

She was still extremely shaky and nervous around him; but who wouldn't be when they experienced what she had? That was the main reason that she was avoiding him; Draco, however, was purely avoiding her so that he didn't have to apologize (for something that wasn't _entirely _his fault) or play nice with her, as he had promised. When she had gotten over the initial shock of it (which wasn't until the next day), she had reached one conclusion – that it had been Malfoy that caused the pain – and three questions – how had he managed to do it? What did it have to do with her? And, why did it affect him two?

If she ever came across the opportunity to ask him though, one question that he had to answer, it'd be:  
Why was it that it only started when he grabbed her and stopped when he released?

The answer to that was as much a mystery to her as it was to everyone else.

Well, _almost _everyone else.

Maybe it could be something that she could research into; but where would she start? That was the question that was currently puzzling Hermione as she uncharacteristically got distracted from her homework for the third time in the hour, staring straight at the brick wall that cuts the staircase off from the rest of the common room, where for not the first time, she felt her eyes be drawn to.

* * *

He couldn't move.

Well, he _could, _but that wasn't the point. Not really.

Hermione unknowingly was staring at the piece of wall exactly where Draco was hiding. He felt pinned in place by her gaze, although he couldn't see it; but he could feel it, cutting through the wall and not allowing himself to move anymore than sliding down the wall and slumping to the ground.

Originally, when he discovered that he and Hermione had been left the common room to themselves unknowingly, Draco had thrown himself back against the wall that cut the staircase off from the rest of the common room, automatically going to hiding so he didn't have to have a confrontation with her.

It had been a miracle in Draco's eyes, that every time that he had peered out from behind the wall that Hermione, during those times, was too busy working on her essays to ever notice him. If she had so much as caught even a glimpse of him though, she had never said or done anything to suggest that she had, so, for now, Draco was happy to not been noticed and didn't even bother hiding the emotion from his face. It was every half-hour (or more like, what _felt_ like a half-hour since he had no way to tell the time and it felt to be passing very slowly) that Draco checked to see if Hermione had moved from her space directly opposite the wall to someplace where he could stealthily escape. But so far, she hadn't moved more than an inch.

The reason they were alone though was that everyone else (once the afternoon had struck and their daily portrait meeting was over) had gone out to see friends, left to go to the library or left to go play some Quidditch because they were all able to get along together and be 'civil'. This, unfortunately, left Draco 'The-Unwanted-Ex-Death-Eater-That-Everyone-Hated' Malfoy on his lonesome in a common room he'd rather not be in at all, with the one girl he was purposefully avoiding.

Personally, Draco didn't think that Blaise even got on with everyone all that well; Draco reasoned that Blaise only left when he realised that if he wasn't there, it'd only be Hermione and himself, making it almost definite that they'd end up encountering each other, which, Draco suspected, was exactly what he wanted. If anyone noticed Draco's clear avoidance, it was Blaise, and he hadn't been placed in Slytherin for nothing.

Where she was sitting, directly opposite the wall so that she'd see him if he came out fully, was truly coincidental; but that couldn't excuse the fact that she was staring _directly where he was standing._ Now that problem Draco blamed on their strong connection that they have to each other.

_It was as if she could see through the wall._

He imagined that he was going to be stuck in the same place all day, or at least until she moved. Either way, when he finally got the chance to move, he was going to be stiff.

* * *

Hours later, Hermione finally finished her homework. None of the others were back yet, she had a feeling that they were all down at Hogsmeade and so probably wouldn't be back for another couple more hours. Picking up all her books and parchment, she strode over to the staircase so she might return her things before deciding on what to do next.

As she was just passing the sofa, she became lost in her own thoughts. Mainly, the mystery that was Draco Malfoy. She wasn't even thinking about four days ago, well, she was, but also the very first day when Ginny claimed in the train that Malfoy was mental. Then that day in the library when he was having some sort of painful breakdown and ended up attacking Blaise; then the bloodstains and scorch marks on the floor outside the library once she left. The look of pain on Malfoy's face as he dropped to the floor in pain four days ago and the absolute torture as he grabbed her. What he had said to her as he let go: _"This-This is the pain you put me in Granger. This is the pain." _And what exactly did he mean by that? Why is Blaise always with Draco when something bad happens?

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't notice Malfoy's legs stretched out across the floor. It happened so quickly that Hermione wouldn't have been able to stop herself from whacking her head against the stone stairs, even if she tried. After all, she didn't know that there was anyone else in the common room and even if there were, what were they doing sleeping on the floor by the steps? Hermione was more than sure that when she came down the stairs earlier that there wasn't anyone there, and if she discovered that it was one of the boys' brooms that she tripped on, then she'd be having a very serious word with them about where they put their things. All her books and papers went flying before she even hit the ground. Looking back in the future, Draco may come to find that the Anti-Veela Charms on the Eighth Year Tower were more of a curse than a blessing. Unfortunately once Draco had been jolted awake because of the foot ramming into his own, he didn't have the Veela speed to snap back to reality and process what was happening quick enough, nor did he have the speed that he needed to catch her before she managed to knock herself unconscious and cut the side of her head.

* * *

Perfect.

Just bloody brilliant.

What was he supposed to do now?

Leaving her there meant that the automatic blame goes on him because he was the only one left in the common room, and if Draco felt like protesting that he left to go to the library, he was bloody well sure that none of them would find any problem in producing a witness. And it wasn't as if he could say that he was visiting friends because apart from Blaise, no one wanted to be friends with him- that or his only other friends were dead or didn't bother returning.

But taking her _outside _the Tower, seemed to be worth more trouble than it was. Sure, he was progressing nicely in his 'training' with Luna, but that was just a scarf- not herself! What if he couldn't control his urges? I mean, he isn't too sure what his Veela would do to her apart from probably snog the living daylights out of her, but even then. What if, God forbid, someone _saw _him _snogging her? _

Why couldn't _she _be the Half-Veela? All Draco would've had to do then was put her outside, rush back into the common room before something bad happened and then she'd repair herself, wake up and walk back in once she was better.

Yes, that would've been so much easier.

But, although Draco didn't doubt his talent at healing charms, he didn't quite think that he'd be good enough to repair the rather deep gash in her head that was currently leaking blood onto the stairs. And, as more droplets splattered onto the stone, it continued to convince Draco that he had to get her out of the common room before she stained everywhere with her blood...that wasn't dirty at all. Not a single shade darker than his own, as you'd imagine someone that's been labelled as a 'mudblood' would be. Maybe Draco would have to rethink this whole 'mudblood' thing after all...

Carefully picking up her legs, he moved them off his and placed them back gently on the floor, then started gathering all her books and pieces of parchment and piling them on the first step. Once that was done and there was no chance of him knocking himself out by slipping on one of them, he lifted up Hermione from under her arms. She was surprisingly light, which shouldn't have come as such a surprise considering that she quite small and thin, but knowing her fiery attitude, certainly not fragile. She could never be described as fragile. Then, when she was slumping against his strong frame, he wrapped an arm around her waist and picked her up from behind her knees, so (almost fittingly) she was being carried bridal style out of the common room.

Now, if Draco had read more on Veelas he would've known before it happened that he wouldn't have stood even the smallest of chances to stay in control once he was out of the common room.

He took no more than three steps from the exit of the common room before he dropped to his knees on the floor and laid Hermione down. He then tenderly brushed all of her hair to the other side of her head so that he could get a better look at her injury. It had made some of her matted because of the blood sticking to it, but Draco didn't care about the blood. If anything, it made him excited and way more caring than he believed he could be, even when it came to his Mate. He could smell it and, other than the obvious metallic scent it had, it smelt indescribably wondrous.

He knew then and there that he wanted her to give him her blood. Not in that Vampiric way where he wanted her blood for the sick reason to live (although, technically, they were dead anyway), no; he wanted her blood because of the Bonding Ceremony. He would've tasted some of it- he was sure that it tasted as good as it smelt - but even through his loving haze he could tell that she was hurt and as his Mate's destined and protector, and that had to be sorted out. He pressed his hand as gently as he could to her wound and when he pulled his hand away, he saw that there wasn't much blood there. Not much coated his hand (even though half his hand was covered in the fluid) so that made some of his worry float away; her blood was clotting. That was a good thing. She won't bleed to death. He just had to keep reminding himself that, he thought, as he gently picked Hermione back up, tucked her head into the crook of his neck, and continued to the Hospital Wing. Her small breaths tickled his throat, but he couldn't allow himself to get distracted by the excitement it caused him or how desirable her scent made her. Making sure she is looked over is top priority; he can jump her later.

* * *

As soon as Draco burst into the Hospital Wing (luckily he didn't encounter anyone on the way there) he gently set Hermione onto the nearest bed that wasn't occupied, tenderly brushed her hair away from her face, and after one last look, went to go find Madam Pomfrey. Blood still coated his hand and it still smelt as refreshing as it did earlier, but Draco had become worried for her health only a few minutes ago and he didn't care what the Medi-Witch was doing at the moment, she would stop straightaway and help his Mate.

The walk from the Eighth Year common room was a good twenty minutes away (fifteen for Draco because he was rushing while still being careful of Hermione); the problem was that during that time she had not stirred once or even woken up for a brief amount of time. There wasn't even as much as a twitch of a finger or a bat of an eyelid. Draco knew she wasn't dead though, otherwise he'd be dead too; and she wasn't _dying, _or again, he'd be dying too. He reckoned that it had to do with the fact that her head smashed the stone steps pretty hard and the blood loss, but he still wanted to be absolutely sure that she was fine. No permanent damage.

When Draco found Madam Pomfrey, who was in the middle of ordering a whining Second Year to drink their Skele-Grow, he didn't even announce his presence or reason, just swung her around by her shoulder and dragged her towards Hermione's bed. Obviously, she protested to being dragged about without warning and wobbled, but when Draco looked straight at her and she saw his eyes were completely black she just allowed herself to be pulled by the young Half-Veela.

When she arrived at the girl's bedside, she didn't stop to gasp or question Draco, just set to work casting different spells to check her vitals and the extent of her blood loss. Draco just stood to the side, out of the way but still close enough to be able to watch her carefully, and let Madam Pomfrey take care of her. After she finished checking Hermione over, she cleaned her wound and healed it. There was nothing else she could do for her; only to let her wake up by herself and then treat her if need be, from then on. The Medi-Witch turned around to look where Draco went, only to jump when she saw that he was standing right behind her.

_His eyes were still black, the colour of writing ink_, Pomfrey thought. "She hasn't woken," the young Malfoy stated.

For a moment, all thoughts flew from her head. How did she reply to that? What was he expecting her to do? Sure she believed, with only a smidgen of doubt, that Malfoy was Half-Veela, but she didn't expect to be seeing him at all this year, at least, certainly not for his sake after she'd read up on the creatures. Her eyes locked back to his and asked, "What exactly happened to Miss Granger anyway, Mr Malfoy?"

He tilted his head so he was looking past her at straight at Hermione. "Hermione tripped and hit her head on the stairs," He said quickly, as if the details of what happened weren't important. He paused, and then said, "When will she wake up?"

She didn't pester any more for details that she knew she wouldn't get. "I do not know Mr Malfoy, but you are welcome to stay here _until _she wakes up."

"But I _want _to see her when she's awake. _I've got to take her back to the common room, to make sure she's safe." _ He said through clenched teeth. He didn't like being denied access to his Mate, especially since she _belongs_ to him. He should be able to decide what to do when it came to _her._ The one thing that you should never do is deny a Veela his Mate. His hands were heating up, he could feel it, but he didn't bother to stop it this time. He just knew it'd give him an advantage if she were scared. Maybe then, she'd change her mind.

"She doesn't need any more shock; you will not be here when she awakes. I doubt she knows about your intertwined destinies, does she? You're abrupt attraction to her is going to unnerve her at the very least. You are not to be here."

"I don't care. She'll know soon. She'll understand. Hermione'll have to – she's my Mate."

_How unusual_, Pomfrey thought, _that Mr Malfoy should be destined to Miss Granger_. When he arrived, she had an inkling that that was the nature of the situation, but never entirely believed that it was. She got over the sudden shock quite quickly and said firmly, "You are not to be here when she awakes, and that is my final word."

"She's my _Mate. _She needs my protection."

Screw the fireballs, Draco thought, if he used force he'd never be allowed to stay, even when she's asleep. Without even thinking calming thoughts, Draco managed to get his hands to cool and made his wings break out of his back. It no longer hurt as much, since they'd already appeared before and he remembered the pain, so by comparison, it no longer hurt much. His wings were still unfortunately black with no trace of white feathers yet, considering he wasn't close to Hermione at all. Madam Pomfrey had turned away to return to the Second Year after Draco had spoken, so didn't see his wings when they sprouted, but when she turned back to tell him that he either agrees or he doesn't stay at all, she was overcome with fear seeing the anger in his posture and his large wings. "I _have_ to see her."

She tightly gripped her wand in her pocket, not yet withdrawing it. "I'll make a deal with you Mr Malfoy," She said tightly. "If you don't let the Veela side of you take over when she's awake, then I'll let you see her."

Draco shuffled his wings a bit, then stood up straighter and gave a short nod, saying, "Fine."

She still had her grip on her wand, although it had loosened somewhat since coming to an agreement. "And do something about your wings. You have no more need to have them out, Mr Malfoy, unless you are going to be scaring everyone that comes in here."

When she turned her back to continue going back to the Second Year, Draco let himself have a satisfied grin that he got what he wanted (albeit having to agree to a stupid, but easy, agreement) and sat in the chair next to her bed, retracting his wings back into his back.

His Hermione looked perfect again, though a bit pale from the blood loss. Her curly locks had been cleaned of the blood, and now fanned around her head; framing her face and making her look so much younger. Her mouth was slightly parted as she took small breaths. She looked as though she had just fallen asleep on the sofa in the common room, not as though she'd been knocked unconscious. She looked angelic. Peaceful; the most peaceful he had ever seen her being. _And utterly kissable, _He thought.

He couldn't kiss her though – well, on the lips at least. But the temptation was there; it would always be there. He squirmed on his chair while he tried to restrain himself from doing exactly what his mind craved. He continued to watch her, but she still showed no signs of coming back around to consciousness. Maybe she would take longer to wake also because of what she experience four days ago. Maybe her body needed longer to recover fully.

* * *

He didn't know how long he had sat there for - hours probably. And he didn't know when he had moved his chair as close as possible to the bed as he could, or when he had one of her small hands in between his larger ones. All he knew was that, when The Boy Who Lived and Weasley came in, he was not at all prepared to explain and was tired more than anything else.

His head, which was lying comfortably on the mattress, shot up quickly when he heard two recognisable voices call "Malfoy!", and his thumbs stopped caressing Hermione's hand as he placed it back on the blanket.

Harry eyed Draco sceptically, while Ron eyed him more with hatred. Draco didn't care how they looked at him, he was more worried about what he would say if they asked what he was doing by Hermione or having to explain her presence in the Hospital Wing. Or, Merlin forbid, having to explain why there was dried blood on the stairs. He could think of something, he was sure, but in no way would he be asked to leave – _or forced_. Draco stood up from his chair and met them at the foot of her bed. Harry and Ron were both about to speak, but when they got closer, they hesitated. After about a minute of just staring at him, Draco raised one blond eyebrow and smirked at them. Before Draco could even ask, "Well?", Ron suddenly blurted, "What the bloody hell is wrong with your eyes?"

_My eyes_, Draco thought. _What's wrong with-Oh right._ A devilish grin transformed his smirk and his black eyes twinkled, and said, "Haven't they always been this colour? I didn't know you paid such particular attention to the colour of my eyes Weasley."

Ron's face turned red and before he could snap a retort back, Harry spoke. "We don't give a damn about your eyes Malfoy and you _know _that's not the reason we're here." He took a deep breath to calm himself. "Now, what happened to Hermione?"

What was he thinking earlier, about not being able to lie to them about where he was because they'd know he was lying? Ah, yes. He remembers now. True, they knew that he was left in the common room; and true, they'd be able to find out if he said he'd been at the Owlery, or the library or anything else, but what if he was just simply in his room when it happened? They would have a hard time trying to prove him wrong about that. "I don't know," He lied easily, "I was in my room staying as far away from Herm-_Granger_ as I could (well, at least part of _that _was the truth), when I heard her shriek. I poked my head out the door to tell her to keep it down, when I saw her crumpled on the stairs. So, naturally, I couldn't have her blood staining anymore of the stairs and brought her here. Happy Potter?"

His jaw was set tensely, but instead of replying to Malfoy, Harry just looked over to Hermione and tried not to let what Malfoy said about her _blood_ – an easily hidden insult – the avoidance of the 'inferior' and the blatant uncaring thought over her scream. Ron was having the same problem, but instead of looking away, he defiantly glared into his eerie black eyes, with his fists clenched at his sides.

Draco couldn't even be bothered to waste his time staring back at Weasley. Oh no, he was too angry with Potter staring at _his Mate. _Staring at his Mate full of affection, worry and caring. It made Draco sick; sick to his stomach with an unknown emotion. No one else should be allowed to look at her like that, only him. Not that they knew anything about him - about the nature of him – but he didn't care. They would soon. Everyone would soon. The whole of the Wizarding Community would soon – not just the professors, Blaise, Luna, the Minister of Magic and the workers in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures – and they would all know _never_ to look at Hermione like that. Ever.

"What, no thanks?" Draco said sarcastically, not taking his eyes off Harry as he turned to face him once more. "I did have to _touch her, _you know. I carried her the whole way here. I didn't have to – I could've left her to bleed," He finished maliciously, now right in front of Harry, towering over him in such a way it made him seem so much taller than he actually was.

"Don't you ever-," Ron started, striding forward, as all three of them drew out their wands. He only got to standing more or less in line with Harry, before they were all stopped by Madam Pomfrey who was all but running out of her office to get to them.

"Stop! Stop!" She shouted. "10 points from Gryffindor _each_! There will be no duels in here Mr Potter and Weasley." She looked at the two boys with the scowl of a mother telling off her naughty children. At a look at their disbelieving faces, she remembered that Draco was there as well. Glancing at his irritable face, she remembered from her reading that Veelas get angry quickly. She'd rather not be slightly biased to Malfoy's case, but he had an excuse to resort to duelling so quickly, whereas the other two, did not. She sighed and said, "And 5 points from Slytherin." Their faces were still shocked at the obvious biased treatment of Malfoy, but they were only slightly happier that he got points knocked off too, but when they saw how smug Malfoy looked, their hatred returned.

None of the boys said anything, just glared at each other, for which Draco was glad. It meant that Potter was no longer looking at Hermione, and, not that he had been, Weasley wasn't either.

"Now, Mr Potter and Weasley, Miss Granger will be fine. There's no permanent damage and when she gains consciousness, I'll check for any problems she may have, like amnesia. I shall send someone to get you when she does awake, granted you promise to behave since Mr Malfoy will be here when you return. But for now, I have to ask you to leave."

Not wanting to argue with Madam Pomfrey and risk losing more points for their house, they turned around and, after one last glare at Draco and thanks to the Medi-Witch, left. Draco turned around too, once they left, and made his way back over to sit back on his chair with new energy and alertness pumping through his veins that he didn't have before they arrived.

"If you have one more argument, Mr Malfoy, in here because of your unsavoury temper, then you are definitely not seeing her while she's still under my care," She warned before making her way back to her office.

"Sorry Pomfrey, but that wasn't part of our agreement," Draco called out, his black eyes never leaving Hermione's face, his hands never stopping the caressing of hers as he was doing before. He brought her knuckles to his lips and gently brushed his lips over them, whispering promises onto her skin.

* * *

**A/N-Oh, and I don't know whether I've said this before, but if any of you want to write a Dramione story, I have loads of story ideas but I'm never going to be able to write them because I'm busy as it is. So, if you're having trouble coming up with any ideas, if you PM me, I can tell you one of my more or less planned stories. **


	13. Curiosity Changes Things, Changes People

**A/N-Woohoo! Updated again in just under a week! 10 points to Slytherin!**

**This is just a filler chapter really, but some important things happen otherwise there'd be no point in writing it. I felt kind of bad for not writing previously for about 6 weeks, so I decided to write another chapter! Be prepared for a happy, happy Draco.**

* * *

He left at around midnight, when he was sure that no one would be awake to harm her. He would've stayed, but apart from breakfast, he hadn't eaten all day and he needed to have strength if someone did decide to attack her. He was sure that the House-Elves wouldn't mind getting him something to eat; they were in the kitchens, after all, to make food for the students and other staff.

Once he reached the kitchens, he wasn't entirely surprised to see that there were at least fifty House-Elves still working. Obviously, it must take quite a few hours to cook enough (and more) food for the whole Hogwarts population, but it probably wasn't always there same Elves – there must be more than fifty. McGonagall must've created a rota for them to work by.  
The first to notice him standing there was a young looking Elf (although since they can live for hundreds of years, there was no telling how old the young ones are), with large blue eyes and tiny hands; abandoning his (or her) work for a couple of seconds, it scurried over to Draco.

"What can Pipsy do for you Sir?" The Elf, clearly a she, squeaked. The others didn't stop what they were doing, but they still looked over to the tall, white-haired, black-eyed student who was standing stoically by the entrance. Some of them, the ones who have been working there for about five years, had recognised the boy from Dobby's stories of his old owners, the Malfoy's. There were others too though, the ones that had once been employed by Ministry workers, who recognised the boy as _what _he really was from the times that they had to follow their Masters (or Mistress's) at the Quidditch World Cup, by the Bulgarian tents and their mascot parades – a Veela.

More importantly, something that they were sure that they'd never see again; a male Veela. A male Veela at Hogwarts.

"Just here for some food. If you could get me an apple a sandwich Pipsy, and I'll be on my way," Draco said, to which Pipsy immediately left to get. Looking around, Draco saw that most were still staring at him. It was rather unsettling having around thirty large eyes fixed on your every move, so instead of sitting down at the chair and table that was there, he stayed standing which he hoped made him more intimidating.

"Dot didn't know that Fleur had a son," a tiny voice said, towards the back of the room. All the others were giving the spindly Elf glares, for speaking out of turn probably, for a personal accusation, and for referring to a person so personally by their given name. This Elf though – this Elf was brave and didn't care that the others had now avoided looking or going near her as they continued doing their various jobs.

Draco didn't say anything for a moment, he was a bit shocked that that had come out of an Elf's mouth, and it took him a moment to realise that she was talking to him. He stuttered for a bit, staring directly at her, but was saved from saying anything as - probably gaining courage from her - another Elf spoke up.

"That boy is a Malfoy, Dot. Miss Delacour married a Weasley boy," rasped an old, wrinkly Elf who was in the middle of kneading some dough.

Draco was going to interject this time; they shouldn't be talking about him as if he wasn't there. Really, they shouldn't be talking about him at all. But, again, just as he was about to speak, Pipsy came back with his things. She handed it to him and, taking it gratefully and thanking her, he turned to leave, thinking that the conversation on whom he was, was thankfully over.

"_But Fleur is a Veela_. Like that boy, Bugsy," Dot squeaked, pointing a finger at Draco, who had frozen in shock. "Dot spoke to Fleur every time she came to the kitchens, she did. Dot knows what Fleur is, and about Veelas, she does."

The others just shook their heads and rolled their eyes at Dot. She _was _one of the new ones after all, but Draco was a bit worried...  
How did a simple, young House-Elf know so much?

_Why do I even care so much, _Draco wondered, _It's not like they're intelligent enough to piece everything together, and they probably wouldn't tell anyone. _

Shrugging off the looming feeling, Draco stepped out of the door before anything else was said that would make him stop in his tracks. The door closed behind him, cutting off Dot's words ("does your Mate-"), and before his curiosity made him turn back and ask what she had said, he hurried as fast as he could away from the kitchens.

* * *

Though he tried to forget Dot's words, he couldn't help but wonder what she had said. 'Does your Mate,' _what? _ Does your Mate know who you are? Does your Mate hate you? Does your Mate love you? Does your Mate know _what _you are? Does she go to this school, like roses, hate chocolate, _want_ to have a Wizarding career or go back to the Muggle world?

He was outside the Hospital Wing doors now, his apple having been finished and discarded a while ago along with some sandwich remains. He pushed the doors; they were still open. He let out a sigh of relief. So why weren't his feet moving to resume his position next to her bed?

It was with a tinge of sadness that he recognised a growing feeling of dread that was clawing its way up his stomach. And he knew why, unfortunately. Of course, it wasn't like him at all to let the words of a House-Elf get to him, but it was only partly that. The other part was his damn curiosity that seemed just to be causing him problems tonight. He could've forgotten the Elf's words easily, and not think about them, but it was too late now. Paranoia had already set in.

Does his Mate know who he is? Oh of course she does! They've only been going to the same bloody school as each other for eight years! He'd only been bullying her and her friends their whole lives and choosing the Dark Side in the War. It'd be a miracle, which even Merlin himself probably couldn't do, if after all that, she loved him. And no, she didn't know what he was. He couldn't even begin to imagine what she'd be like if she knew; but she is the Brightest Witch of Her Age and she, surely, has noted the unusual behaviour from him. Maybe she _could _know something about it. And if all that make someone feel enough dread, then the thought of not knowing absolutely anything about whom you should_ eventually _end up with_, _should make you feel _something_.

He couldn't go back in there. He couldn't. What would happen when she wakes up? She wouldn't be _relieved _to see him. The sight of him wouldn't make her feel safe, secure or bring her comfort. He didn't know _what _exactly she'd feel when seeing him, but it wasn't going to be any of those things. _Oh shit,_ he thought, his eyes fixed on her body as, from across the room, he saw the fluttering of her eyes and her fingers twitching, finally, slowly, coming back to consciousness. He took a step back, which felt like a tremendous effort. She'd probably be terrified of him, he realised, and the guilt with that thought fuelled him to turn away quickly and all but run back to safety; back to the common room before she, or anyone else, saw.

* * *

Deep breaths.

Easy, _easy_.

You've done this before - it's simple.

Power is all about control.

Concentrate. _Concentrate.  
_  
Blink. Blink. He shook his head, getting his thoughts back in order. Why'd he stop _this time?  
_  
He looked down at his hands. Empty.

He blinked again. He was rather slow today, mostly because he only had five hours sleep before he was woken up by Blaise. Draco was then pestered with questions about his whereabouts for yesterday evening on their way down the stairs (though Draco refused to answer any of them at that moment), and after he ate as much as he could stomach at breakfast, he was forced to help do the painting. The others had seemingly settled to discuss the matter of how they were supposed to enter for later on, when they're actually finished; but for now, everyone seemed content to paint and add their own qualities to it. For instance, Neville, apparently, was basing Dorothy's house off his grandmothers, and Lavender was more than happy to pose for Hannah to paint as the inspiration of Dorothy's figure.

"Well done Draco," Luna chirped, bringing him back to the present. "You've done it."

A grin started to tug at the corners of his lips, and his eyes flickered over to the scarf on the floor (which he'd discreetly stolen from Hermione for the fourth time, after finding that her key had fallen out of her pocket when she fell). He grinned freely now, showing off his white teeth. Now he remembered what was happening, and now he could stay in control whenever he was outside the common room, with a bit of effort.

Luna smiled back at him, her same dreamy smile but her eyes glittered with success. She believed in Draco. She knew he could do it, and now there's proof. She looked to his molten grey eyes, remembering when he couldn't make it past halfway before they turned to the eerie black. Turning around, she skipped towards the scarf and bent over to pick it up to return it to Draco, but suddenly to hands wrapped around her waist and started to swing her around. She knew it was Draco, it couldn't have been anyone else, after all, they were in an empty corridor. Suddenly, it wasn't as if smiling so much that his cheeks hurt was enough, and instead of letting the laugh that bubbled up in his throat die, he let it out. Luna had never heard Draco laugh, at least not like this, and she was sure that there were loads of people who could say the same. This guffaw wasn't hateful, malicious or sarcastic – quite the opposite actually. This laugh of his was warming and infectious to a point that Luna started to laugh too.

"Thank you Luna! Thank-" Draco hollered, the sadness he felt in the early morning and the extreme tiredness gone. But, all of a sudden, Draco shut his mouth with an audible snap and abruptly stopped spinning. Feeling that something was clearly wrong, Luna had gone silent and when she stopped being dizzy and her eyes focused, she could see Hermione standing at the end of the corridor. Slowly, Draco gently lowered Luna to her feet and took an unnoticeable step away from her. Hermione was frozen though, where she was, staring straight at Draco, barely noticing Luna's presence. The guilt _and _tiredness was back now, but he put all his focus onto staying into control, which shouldn't have been so hard seeing as he accomplished it minutes ago.

None of them quite knew what to say, they just stood there in an awkward and tense silence. To Hermione, what she just walked into was a rare and intimate-looking display. _Never_, in her life had she heard or _seen _Malfoy act anything like that. It was slightly comforting to know that he _could _feel happiness and knew how to laugh, that he was still human. It was unnerving though, to see someone who was associated with so much darkness, with all the degrading insults, be carefree. It was with a sunken feeling that she remembered that they were only seventeen, barely adults, but already experienced what the older generation of Wizards have seen, and more. They had to have grown up fast. She couldn't use the past to make him look like he wasn't allowed happiness, nor make it as if he would never feel it. He was clearly happy with Luna. _I should just leave them. Just turn around now...  
_  
'Hermione, no. No, this isn't what it looks like. Let me explain, please,' He wanted to say, no matter how cliché it sounded because it was the truth. And if she turned and ran, he' run after her and force her to stop. Well...he wasn't too sure how he'd force her considering that she'd faint if he touched her. Instead, he took a small forward and the tiredness creeping back into his voice, said, "Granger..." He risked a glance at Luna.

She cleared her throat. "Uh, no it's-" she started to say, but cut herself off when she saw a Gryffindor scarf in Luna's hands. "Luna is that – whose scarf is that?" She asked cautiously.

They were busted now. Truly busted. What was Luna supposed to say? What reason could there possibly be as to why she had a Gryffindor scarf? Maybe it'd just be easier if Draco made her faint now, then the next time he could use his Charms. Surely though, it mustn't be good for someone to faint again after only about 8 hours. Maybe it wasn't the answer. Maybe just telling the truth was...

Or maybe he was just panicking.

"I'm not sure. I found it on the Fifth floor by one of the suits of armour on my way to the Ravenclaw common room. It was infested with Nargles though..." Luna replied, not hesitating for a second.

Hermione seemed to deflate, causing Draco to be slightly paranoid that she actually _recognised _it as her scarf somehow. "Oh, okay," she said, and the awkward tension returned as they continued to stare. After a moment Hermione said, "Well, um, I'll just be going back to the common room then. Here, I'll take the scarf, see if it's Harry, Ron, Neville or Lavender's." She walked up to them quickly, hurrying to get out of the scene and took the scarf off Luna. The whole way though, she could feel Malfoy's eyes on her. Of course she knew it was his eyes and not Luna's because, truth be told, she was staring at him the whole way over too, only looking to Luna when she was receiving the scarf.

Draco really wanted to say something, anything, but didn't know what. All he could do was stare, and it pleased him slightly to know that she couldn't take her eyes off him either. He couldn't say sorry to her that was for sure. At least, not in person...

* * *

The rest of the afternoon Draco spent planning.

Planning by himself, in his room with only his midnight-black eagle owl, he ironically named Venus, and a pile of books from the library keeping him company.

He'd made a quick purchase at Hogsmeade, after he muttered another quick thanks to Luna, and went straight back up to his room, without stopping to talk to Blaise. He'd then brushed past Blaise who was waiting outside his door twenty minutes later, to go to the library and returned half an hour later with a pile of five large tomes balanced in his arms, locking himself away in his room again. He only left his room again for dinner, but tried to spend the least amount of time away from his room, quickly shovelling food into his mouth at a speed that even Ron, Crabbe or Goyle could never match.

The next morning, he was ready, and he woke up extra early just to make sure that the plan would go perfectly.

"Alright Venus, you know the plan," Draco said as he walked up the steps to the Owlery to leave her there, ready for the morning post in the Great Hall. "I trust you won't fuck this up; it won't be good if you do." Venus nipped his fingers affectionately, telling him that she'd do it perfectly, of course. She is the most reliable owl there was. Draco smiled at his clever bird and placed her on one of the crevices on the wall, then handed her a small white box with a purple ribbon. "There's the package then. Thank you V, you'll be getting your own gift after this." He gave the owl a parting stroke, and then left.

He arrived back at the common room just as everyone was getting up, so he just subtly settled himself onto a sofa and waited for Blaise to come down so that they could leave and go to the Great Hall. Draco couldn't stay still though, he was too nervous, too excited to sit still. All he wanted to do at was fast forward time – fast forward time ten years into the future, if he could, to see if he really _does _end up dying. Finally, though, Blaise did arrive and Draco didn't give him any time to talk to anyone, just dragging him straight out of the door as soon as his foot touched the last step. Blaise did ask about Draco's strange behaviour, but he only replied with 'Just have a lot of energy. Feels like a good day.' He didn't enquire any further than that.

Draco barely ate anything, he was too busy staring at the open window where the owls came through every day and bouncing his leg so much that Blaise and a few younger years had started to get annoyed. It felt like _hours _before the owls started to stream through, though it was no more than half an hour. Draco immediately searched the group for Venus, but wasn't able to spot her so he just watched the Gryffindor table and waited for something to fall out the sky, and into Grangers lap.

When his package did though, all the tension he felt increased tenfold instead of disappearing. He watched as she curiously picked up the white box, with Ron and Harry practically leaning over her shoulders to see what was sent by the unknown owl.

It felt like everything happened in slow motion.

She carefully untied the purple bow and then plucked the lid off. She reached inside a picked up a slip of paper, held it at eye level and slowly, mouthed the words while Ron and Harry seemed to be having a small debate about something and trying to get Hermione's attention about what the _other _thing in the box is.

_Sorry for the past, sorry for the present, and sorry for the future._

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**Oh, about Draco owl's name. I decided that it was ironic because the planet Venus is known as the 'morning star'.  
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	14. What Fate Sent

**A/N- So who wants to know what else was in the box?**

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"Hermione."

"Hermione."

"Her_mione."_

"'_Mione!"_

"Will you two just shut _up_ for a second? I'm _trying_ to remember where I've seen this writing before!" Hermione snapped at her two best friends, swatting their hands off her arms and shoulders and looking back to the slip of paper.

"Honestly woman, the bloody piece of paper isn't important," Ron snapped back and tore the paper from her hands, then shoved it in his robe pocket so that she couldn't reach it. "You haven't seen what else this person sent. Look." He pushed the box towards her, ignoring the fatal death glare she was sending him that would've usually made him apologise straightaway and looked straight back at her.

Hermione eventually gave up trying to intimidate Ron and shot a look at Harry, trying to get back up. He only stared back at her though, just as Ron was doing and nodded at the box. With a dramatic huff, Hermione looked into the box.

The first thing that caught her eye was a branch of purple hyacinth big enough to fit in the box. It was lovely and looked as if it was freshly cut, but that was impossible, Hermione thought, because hyacinths were a springtime flower and right now, it was turning to winter. Hermione wasn't too fond of hyacinths though, so the person who sent it to her couldn't have known her too well, but she _did_ know that the Victorians used to send flowers to each other and each had different meanings. Maybe the hyacinth meant something...she'd have to look it up later.

Hermione rolled her eyes and gave each of the boys' irritated looks. "Would either of you like to explain what's so special about a flower? Because I am completely-"

"We don't give a damn about the flower 'Mione. We're talking about what's _under_ the flower. Didn't you see it?" Harry said, snatching the box and lifting out a silver bracelet. "This," He wiggled the bracelet in front of Hermione as her eyes widened in surprise and Ron made a strange strangled noise of protest.

"It's beautiful," Hermione whispered, reaching out to touch it.

"What are you doing?" Ron blurted out, his face turning red. "We don't even know who sent you the damn thing! It could be cursed or something."

Hermione quickly snatched her hand back from almost touching it, knowing what Ron said was true but Harry only rolled his eyes and lowered his hand.

"Ron's right, Harry. For all we know, this could be a plot to kill one-"

"I've already checked to see if there was any Dark Magic contained in the bracelet, it's as safe as anything and if it drains the life out of things then the flower would've been dead by now," Harry assured them. Hermione still looked at Harry sceptically, as if he might've been so careless to have done the spells wrong and if she took it back, she'd be dead or possessed within seconds, but she trusted Harry to do it right. Besides, she thought, Harry had a good point; the jewellery obviously wasn't sent to drain her life _and_ he was holding it without any problems. Ron relaxed greatly though, having full faith in Harry that it was perfectly fine and now, instead of looking at the gift with alarm, they too was curious as to who sent it.

When it was clear that Hermione was going to probably just sit there contently and stare at the bracelet from his hand, Harry handed the bracelet back to her. She took it carefully still, and held it out in front of her, turning it over in her hands and looking for any indication as to who sent it. There was nothing. Hermione, however, didn't let that damper her mood about the gift – it was, after all, beautiful.

There were six medium-sized sapphires placed around the silver bracelet, with two fingernail-sized ones on either side. The gems looked even more gorgeous as they twinkled in the morning light streaming in through the windows, and just by the sheer weight of it, Hermione knew that these were real.

"Dear Merlin Hermione, when did you get _that_?" Ginny practically shouted, running over to the Golden Trio as soon as she spotted them and, more importantly, what she was holding.

"Just now actually," Hermione replied, trying to be casual about something that was getting her mind whirring and her heart beating that little bit faster.

"Well give it here!" Ginny ordered excitedly, reaching across the table to take it from her. Hermione happily handed it over and just watched Ginny's expressions that she was sure she was showing the first time that she saw it too. She looked back over to Hermione only seconds later, her mouth hanging open and the bracelet now on her wrist. "Bloody hell! Hermione – did – did – this is _real!_ Did you know this is _real?_"

Immediately Ron snatched the box over from where it was still sitting with Harry and started frantically throwing all the tissue paper out of it, as if there was something that everyone had missed – like who might've sent it.

"It's certainly heavy enough for them to be real," Hermione said.

Then only just remembering that he had taken the note off Hermione, Ron plunged his hand into this pocket and retrieved the note, his eyes quickly reading it repeatedly. Harry only sat there in his own world, thinking, while Hermione watched Ginny admire _her_ bracelet. Glancing over to Ron, Hermione rolled her eyes at him wanting to know perhaps more desperately than anyone else who the sender was, when only minutes before he was saying that 'the bloody piece of paper isn't important'.  
"W-What?" Ginny spluttered at Hermione's response. She at least expected her to be more enthusiastic or excited at the _expensive bracelet with fucking real sapphires!_ Something that none of them would _ever _hope to buy themselves now or in the future. "Well at least say who sent it to you!"

"I don't know," Hermione said simply, shrugging, seeming completely indifferent when in reality she desperately wanted the bracelet back from Ginny so that she could keep something so precious safe and, of course, try it on herself. "And Ron, there are no clues as to the sender on that bloody unimportant piece of paper, unless you recognise the writing."

Ginny's jaw dropped for a couple of seconds, before curving up into a large grin. "Hermione!" She squealed, "Hermione, you've got a secret admirer! Oh my, this is so exciting!" Hermione gave Ginny a half-hearted smile, although she suddenly became more nervous now thinking that she had a 'secret admirer', as Ginny put it. Harry and Ron – mostly Ron – starting choking on their food. Hermione's cheeks burned. It was as if they thought that she couldn't have a secret admirer, Hermione thought, surely she wasn't _that _bad. There could be someone in the Hall with a crush on her, couldn't there be? Well, as long as it wasn't some star-struck First Year or something. "Oh! Oh! What does the note say?"

"Um, nothing really. It just says...sorry." Hermione shrugged again.

It was clear that Ginny wasn't by far expecting the note to say that, probably something more romantic in her head, but what she said was the truth and Ginny brought the goofy smile back to her face. "What a way to apologise! He must really like you 'Mione! Oh, I wonder what he did wrong for such an elaborate make-up gift," she gushed.

Harry regained his composure quickest after battling his small coughs, giving Hermione a cheery look, though he also seemed worried about whom it could be. Obviously, it wasn't from him – he was with Ginny – and it wasn't from Ron, unfortunately for him he wasn't rich enough to afford such a thing, even with the money he received from the Ministry as thanks for the help winning the War. It couldn't be Neville because he was with Hannah and though Blaise at least had come a long way since the war, Harry definitely didn't think it was Zabini _or _Malfoy and hoped it wasn't as well. Then again, it might not even be an Eighth Year. "I'm happy for you 'Mione; it was nice for you to receive something from someone who isn't out to kill you. This guy seems-"

"Stupidly rich," Ron muttered bitterly.

Harry continued as if he didn't hear Ron, "nice enough just because of that."

"Yes. Well. Thank you Harry," Hermione said, now standing up as she felt the air become slightly awkward and not knowing what else to say. "I think I'm going to go to class now; Professor Cassidy would just be unbearable if any of us were late. Ginny, if you don't mind I'd like to have my _gift _back please so I can put it somewhere where it won't get broken or lost."

The boys nodded their heads, understanding what Hermione had said about the Potions Master to be true. Ginny deflated a little, having to give up something that she had become so fond of in such a small amount of time. "You know 'Mione, whoever sent this obviously spent a lot, it wouldn't be very polite to just leave it lying around. You should at least wear it," She said and solemnly dropped the bracelet into Hermione's open hand. All Hermione said was 'maybe' and left after collecting the box, saying thanks to Ginny and saying bye to the three of them.

Draco left the Hall a few minutes later, satisfied with what he heard, and headed to his first Potions lesson of the year.

* * *

As soon as Hermione was out of the Hall, she allowed a large grin to spread across her face. She had an admirer! Alternatively, this could be someone's idea of a joke. To give the ugly, bushy-haired bookworm hope that someone might _actually _love her. How pathetic of her to believe it. Her smile deflated at that thought and she stopped her fingers as they were about to close the clasp. Nevertheless, the brighter side of her brain said, who would spend so much on a joke? And the note never did say that the person had a crush on her, all it said was that they were sorry. It was just an apology, she reasoned, and to look like she accepted their apology, she should wear it.

With a smaller smile, she fastened the clasp and paused for a moment to admire what it looked like on her wrist. With a content smile, she pulled her robe sleeve back down to cover it as to avoid questions, and, instead of going straight to the Dungeons, she made a quick detour to the library to see if there was anything special about a purple hyacinth.

* * *

'_Hyacinth, or 'Hyacinthus' is derived from the name of a beautiful Spartan youth who was accidently killed by, Apollo, the sun god, while playing quoits. From the Spartans blood, sprang the hyacinth flower. Whilst this flower is found in an assortment of hues, from the tragic tale of its name, the purple hyacinth stands as a symbol of sorrow, a request for forgiveness. According to another legend, the wind god Zephyr, out of jealousy, blew the discus to kill Hyacinth. From his blood sprang a flower, which was named for him.'_ Hermione read.

So, that was it. The purple hyacinth that was sent was just another way of saying sorry and asking forgiveness. Hermione was almost a bit disappointed by this, but what else was she expecting it to mean? She closed the book with a small sigh and quickly placed it back, before all but running out of the library before she was late to potions.

* * *

**A/N- Sorry it was so short, but because the next one is such a turning point and so damn important, it deserves a chapter all for itself! If it's not up today, then it'll be up tomorrow, I promise! Can anyone guess what it'll be?  
**  
**Oh, and who else thought that Hermione's bracelet was amazeballs? I didn't exactly want the jewels to be house related - emerald would be too easy to work out because it's green and ruby just seems a little bit cliche because it's red for Gryffindor. But sapphire is apparently September's birthstone and since that's when Hermione was born, I thought it to be nicer.  
**  
**Also, about what Hermione read about the hyacinth - I didn't make it up, honestly. I actually got all that from a website as well as the meaning (I'm sorry; please forgive me; sorrow).  
**  
**And for those of you who don't know, quoits is a throwing game in which players attempt to throw rings over or near a small post.  
**  
**Please favourite, follow and review! **


	15. There's Nothing To Worry About

**A/N- Right, so I know that this isn't the real ingredients used in the Draught of the Living Dead, but I just - I just wanted to do something different and am _so _imaginative that I couldn't think of a _new _potion.**

**Just a warning before you read it.**

* * *

He closed his eyes and focused on the darkness behind his eyelids that slowly transformed into a relatively blurry view of the library. Focusing a bit harder, the library became clearer and a long, slightly tanned arm with an expensive bracelet dangling on the wrist was seen picking up a large tome. He couldn't make out all of the words, but he only needed to recognise the word _'floriology'_. _Good, _he thought, _she'll-_

"There's no need to panic," He said, interrupting his friend's musings. He opened his eyes, the image of the library quickly disappearing, and scowled at him.

"I'm not panicking."

"Alright then," he smirked, "there's no need to be stressed, or am I mistaking your nervousness?"

"Shut up Blaise."

"Oh come on. You know it's true," Blaise nudged his friend, but he was only rewarded with a glare. He sighed. "You said that you've done it before so just do it again."

"I'd happily trade places with you so you can see how difficult it is."

"Will it honestly be that difficult? I mean, we're in _Potions, _there'll be fumes to – oh wait," Blaise stopped short, remembering what he knew about Veelas.

"Yeah. Oh." Draco drawled sarcastically, tapping his nose with his index finger. "Heightened senses. Remember that Blaise?"

Blaise barely had time to reply before Professor Cassidy threw open the door, the scowl still etched onto his face and ushered them all into the classroom in silence. Blaise and Draco sat next to each other as far away from the Professor as they could and as deep into the back of the room as he allowed with it being such a small class. He couldn't be bothered to notice the other six people and where they sat in the room, he was too busy taking deep and calming breaths and blocking out the rest of the world to just focus on himself. Draco, however, couldn't help but notice the beats his heart skipped and then the faster ones it made to make up for the missing ones. He looked over to where Hermione had entered the room, and subconsciously followed her with his eyes as she stood next to Weasley to the right of the Professors desk, as he sat down. He smirked seeing that she was still as obsessed with school as she had ever been. As if feeling his eyes on her, she looked over her shoulder and before she could notice, Draco quickly averted his eyes. She didn't look at him for long, just merely skipped over him completely and sat down after looking around the rest of the room.

However, all the while Professor Cassidy was explaining how to brew correctly Draught of the Living Dead and constantly reiterating his point of how dangerous it was and that he didn't want any of them to fall into a deep sleep indefinitely, Draco had his eyes on Hermione. She'd keep turning around though, then receive a glare from Cassidy, but Draco was always quick enough to shift his eyes until she was no longer looking. It was one of the best games he'd ever played, he thought.

Ten minutes later and everyone had finally arrived back to their respective desks with all their ingredients and cauldrons and had started to brew their potions with the people they were seated with. Draco found the making of the potion challenging at the least (even if he did have help with half of it), but as one of the top potioneers in the class, he was getting through it slowly, but better than some of the others were. Blaise wasn't making such a fuss, as he was as competent as Draco was, so they didn't need to communicate and he didn't doubt that they'd have this potion done by the end of the lesson; however, could hear the grumblings of some of the others around the room as they didn't have as good skills. He could hear Brown's incessant cursing as she tried to crush the sopophorous beans, Potter mumbling to himself as he tried to recall the information in the 'Half-Blood Prince's book' and Hermione as she was continually whispering instructions to Weasley out of the corner of her mouth and berating him when he accidentally did something wrong.

Cassidy was walking around the room, stopping for no more than two minutes at each pair to watch them work, causing some of the more distressed ones to end up cutting themselves by mistake or putting the wrong thing into their cauldron. Draco noticed, while staring in Hermione's direction again, that Cassidy had spent only a bit longer at Weasley's side, observing him, while he tried to figure out how to do it properly without Hermione's assistance.

_"Shit," _Draco cursed as he lost concentration from staring at Hermione for so long and ended up making a deep slice in his finger whilst cutting the Valerian roots. The top half of his finger was hanging limply, only being supported by a thin bit of skin and some muscle for a couple of seconds with blood pouring over it before all the sinew and skin that was missing re-grew and knitted itself back together. Even now, after a few injuries, it amazed him at how fast he repaired himself. He chuckled to himself as if he knew something that no one else did, which, I'd have to say, was very true.

Granger's friends and even Blaise when Draco told him, all thought that her new bracelet was a lovely gift, obviously from someone who liked her very much or from someone who was trying to make a good impression. Something that wasn't quite selfless but at the same time, wasn't at all selfish.

That's where they were wrong!

Of course yes, he was starting by saying sorry, albeit anonymously but the flowers and note would've worked just as well – he didn't _need _to send the bracelet. He was more than sure that it wasn't the accessory that brought the forgiveness of Granger; he knew that she wasn't that type of materialistic person. The _only reason _that Draco even sent the blasted thing was because that with also _her _recent injuries, he'd decided to lace the gift with powerful healing charms (that would repair her as quickly as Draco's Veela blood does) and a locating spell so that he always knows where she is. Now that was the selfish bit, because it was all for his sole benefit of course, because, if Hermione dies – he dies. He's only trying to keep himself alive just that bit longer.

Draco had just burnt himself after losing his concentration again, when Professor Cassidy yelled, looking positively murderous; it seemed that he had made his way back round to Weasley's side again. "Mr Malfoy," Professor Cassidy snapped. Draco's head darted up to see what had gotten the Professor in such an angered state, especially when he heard his own name. "Switch partners with-"

_Merlin, oh Merlin! _Draco thought, his heart sinking into his stomach. _Neither of them! Don't make me switch with either of them! The world is ending..._

"Mr Weasley before his incompetence causes us all to die. And no disagreements or I'll have you in detention for a month – that goes for the both of you!" Cassidy continued, not noticing the entire colour draining out of Draco's face and the speeding up of his heart. He was about to retort, he didn't care about a stupid detention when his secret could be at stake! However, Blaise elbowed him sharply in the side and that, with the defeated look of Weasley (who Draco was more than sure would have had s_omething _to say about this) as he made his way over looking – if it were even possible – even more sour than Draco was feeling, knew that this was a lost cause. Draco grumpily gathered his things, disregarding his nervousness and momentary panic, choosing to focus instead about what he was actually doing so as not to give the Veela a chance to control. He left the cauldron with Blaise and trudged over to where Hermione was at the front. He tried to hide his shaking hands as he dumped his bag on the floor (which echoed in the silence of the room) and just looked over to the book by Hermione to see where she was with the potion. Then, after not managing to work out where she was, he looked over to see what she was doing, all the while staying so far away from her as not to touch her by mistake.

Clearly, he'd been lost in his own thoughts (and that gorgeous scent of hers that he'd been trying so hard to ignore) and way too busy just watching her to notice that she'd been trying to subtly and quietly get his attention without drawing Cassidy's attention to themselves. Hermione had run out of options since he was not responding, so she had to resort to stabbing the knife into the desk by his hand, accidentally catching a piece of his skin, which amazingly repaired itself before her very eyes seconds later. Her eyes widened at the magic, but she didn't question it...yet. They had more important things to do – like the potion.

"Bloody hell woman, what was that for?" Draco hissed under his breath, then holding his hand close to his body as if he only just realised that he'd been cut – not that it mattered anymore – but it was a slow reaction.

"Look Malfoy, I'm _not_ getting any less than an O on this potion, so you better just stop..._staring at me _and help," she snapped back at him.

Draco rolled his eyes and fought down the small blush that threatened to show his embarrassment of being caught. "Staring? Please Granger, as if I'd ever voluntarily watch you like _that_."

"Well then ferret, what _were _you doing? And none of your stupid mind games."

"Observing," Draco stated simply, as if it was obvious. "Trying to figure out what has been done and what needs doing."

"Right, well," she dumped some of the Valerian roots into the cauldron, stirred it twice clockwise and then dumped some lavender sprigs in from of Draco. "You can just cut up the lavender for now."

"I don't need to be told what to do," Draco grumbled under his breath so that Hermione couldn't hear him, "being told where we are is good enough." He rolled up his sleeves, feeling hotter where he was now than where he was with Blaise. He, of course, was well aware that by doing that, he was exposing the Dark Mark to everyone in the room but he couldn't possibly care less. It was fading anyway, it was a light grey in colour now, and it wasn't as if he wanted to get the tattoo branded on his skin in the first place - so what was there to be ashamed of? He grabbed the knife from where it was still pointing face down into the desk and began to chop the lavender.

Once he finished he was about to nudge Hermione, who was gradually adding unicorn hairs, but stopped his elbow just centimetres away from her. It wouldn't do any good to have her faint now and possibly bring the entire cauldron contents down with her. Draco could hear the crackle of magic in the air from the closeness of them and Hermione felt a small jolt of electricity go up her arm, causing her mind to become cloudy for a couple of seconds, by which time she'd accidentally dropped all the hairs in by mistake.

Draco made a growling noise in the back of his throat. "What are you doing?" He snapped, oblivious that she as well had no idea what had happened. They didn't touch – that was for sure. Maybe it was just the overload of magic; the same overload that the book said caused Mates to faint. Hermione just shook her head as if she had just come out of a daze and looked questionably and irritably at Draco who was cursing loud enough for her to hear and about how one minute she wanted a perfect potion and the next she was ruining it. He ordered her 'out of the way', then walked around her, as far as possible as not to touch her (which insulted Hermione who thought that most the Wizarding World was over blood purity) and quickly tried to fix the failed potion. Hermione just stared at him as he put in four measures of Standard Ingredient. She watched him long enough for him to notice her lack of help; he looked over his shoulder and said, "It's rude to stare Granger."

"I'm _observing," _Hermione sneered, folding her arms. He couldn't be bothered to fight with her, and he especially didn't want to use up another week of his life or have to go through the pain again, so he just sent her a scathing look and ordered her to go get the jar of dart frogs from the ingredients cupboard.

Once she arrived back, Draco asked for two dart frogs, but he completely lost it when she reached into the jar without gloves on. Not wanting to risk her fainting even more, Draco just settled for frantically waving his arms about and hissing, "Stop. Stop! Gloves Granger! Gloves! Honestly, are you really the Brightest Witch of Your Age? Dart frogs are poisonous! What's wrong with you?"  
He very much doubted that the bracelet would protect her from poison.

Hermione got exceedingly irritated with not just Draco and his critical words and looks, but with herself for acting so daft. _Really Hermione, _she thought, _what _is _wrong with you? You've never zoned out this much during class or act so carelessly – _especially_ in Potions!_

Draco sighed, putting the gloves on himself and took two out, then proceeded to squeeze the poison out of them and into the cauldron. He then put the two of them back into the jar, closed the lid and thrust it back into Hermione's hands, giving her a look saying that he hoped that she could do at least _that _right. He took his gloves off and continued to order Hermione around. If she wanted the potion to be perfect, then so be it, she could just follow _his _orders and that way she'll hopefully not muck up the potion again.

Every time Draco wanted Hermione to pass her something, he'd always say to put it on the table – never would he take it from her hand, that might mean - Merlin forbid - that he'd have to _touch_ her. She even tried moving slightly closer to him, only small amounts each time that a _normal _person shouldn't have even been able to notice – but he did. Hermione had had enough! This never bothered her before, but then again, Hermione never had to work with Draco before for anything, but now, she was going to make sure that they had some contact whether he liked it or not! He desperately _needed _to get over this Pureblood supremacy thing – the War was _over._

Hermione stared at the pile of lavender that Draco had cut up before her. He needed this and soon and he was going to get it. Contact involved.

"Granger, do you have the lavender?" Draco asked.

"Yes," she said innocently. "Do you need it?"

"Well obviously-" Draco started, before he cut himself off.

Long, nimble fingers were wrapped around his wrist, sending a sharp tingle up his arm and straight to his heart and brain, making it feel as if his heart was on a caffeine high and his brain to go completely fuzzy. He was faintly aware that there was something in his hand, but apart from that, he couldn't make sense of anything except the shocked - but also triumphant - face of Hermione seconds before she collapsed. As if on autopilot, Draco's hands automatically dropped whatever he was holding and wrapped both his hands around her waist before she hit the ground, unconscious.

* * *

I tried to fight it.

I did.

Truly.

But she was just so..._perfect_.

She was warm against me, her hair tickled my chin as did her small breaths and she was soft. So, so soft. I could hold her until I die; I _wanted _to hold her until I died. And there was no one that could ever take her away from me, especially now. I could tell that the wizard part of me was no longer in control; it felt like there was thick fog in my head – as if I was intoxicated. There was also her scent – how could I forget something as delicious as that?_Merlin_ that scent would be on my clothes for days – not that I minded – but still, I'd never be able to think straight or get any work done again.

Lord how I love you Hermione. How I love that, you truly are _her. _I love that I know that now; how I'm not longer blindly lusting over that Weasley, how no one else would ever faint at my touch as you did. Could there be any more ways to love a Mate?  
I nuzzled my head into the crook of her neck, breathing her in, the tips of my fingers playing with the ends of her hair. She was leaning on me and I was holding her up on her own two feet still, but I couldn't care less if I was standing and admiring her or sitting on the floor admiring her. It didn't matter where she was; Hermione was always looking beautiful in any light.

I was vaguely aware of someone calling my name, well, if 'Mr Malfoy' counts as my name or just plain old 'Malfoy'. There were some other calls for Hermione too, but I wasn't too sure if that was really happening or whether it was just my own mind calling out for her. I knew it was reality come knocking however, when I felt someone pulling my shoulders. Someone trying to separate us.

Me and Hermione.

Hermione and I.

I held on tighter, careful to keep my anger in check – I didn't want to burn my Mate and I definitely didn't want to show everyone my wings. I growled low in my throat and lifted my head up from her to see what was happening in my surroundings. There were more hands on my shoulders, I could feel them but couldn't make out how many pairs there were. I constantly shrugged them off but they always resumed their position and continued to pull me away. Why didn't they understand that I didn't _want _to let go?  
"Bloody hell Malfoy," Weasley growled at me, "what's _wrong _with you! Get your hands off her you sick, cowardly, Death-" I quickly spun around knowing that one of the hands was Weasley's, I had to let go of Hermione obviously so that I could properly attack him, but I knew there were people around me that would catch her. He seemed to get a little bit intimidated by what must have been an extremely murderous expression on my face (and perhaps the intensity of my black eyes) but still, he proceeded to swing at me to try to dislodge himself from my grip on the front of his robes.

"No, Weasley, _you don't touch her!" _I growled. This seemed to give him a new sense of anger and strength and his began to deliver more and faster blows, but I barely needed to think as I dodged every one of his swings and landed a few of my own on his face and his stomach. At one point, I think I cracked his nose. I was just about to land another blow to his face when Weasley dropped like a stone to the floor, clearly being stupefied. The room had suddenly become eerily silent; I could feel all the eyes that were trained on me. I looked around me, the threat being temporarily dealt with, when my eyes landed the Professor, his wand held shakily out in front of him, showing much more emotion that I'd ever seen him show in the past hour, although it was mostly alarm.

* * *

"I didn't think Minerva was serious," Cassidy breathed. "Good Lord Draco Malfoy." He just stood by his desk for a while, seemingly catching his breath, or, more likely, putting his thoughts in order and deciding how best to deal with the situation at hand. Soon, the panicked expression on his face was transformed into one of full authority and concern. He ordered the others to return to their potions and continue them before they became ruined and would have to make up for it in detention. Blaise looked at Draco worryingly for a short amount of time as he made his way over to his desk, but looked away when he realised that he was too far-gone at the moment to see anything reassuring. Professor Cassidy then beckoned Draco over to him, which Draco stiffly did, not sure what would happen but he would take any excuse to go back over to where his Mate was. "Potter," he said gruffly, "get back to your potion." When Harry didn't move away from where he was crouched by Hermione's side, Draco shot him a deadly glare that should've sent him running and when that didn't work and Draco was about to start growling, Cassidy barked "_Now_! 20 points from Gryffindor for being defiant!" Sulkily, Harry got up, shoved past Malfoy and went to his desk, which was to the side of them, to continue the potion.

Cassidy suddenly looked tired as he examined Draco who was staring longingly at the crumpled body on the floor. He sighed. "Take her to Madam Pomfrey, Mr. Malfoy. I'll finish your potion. I understand the...nature of things but if you can't control yourself, I'll see to it that you're removed from my class." Draco nodded curtly and gently, with all the care in the world, scooped Hermione up into his arms, feeling a sense of déjà vu as he carried Hermione unconscious in a bridal style lift.

* * *

**A/N- Happy Easter! Sorry this one is short. I wasn't expecting it to be, but I got the end and I didn't know what else to say (and I was also super addicted to 'Merry Christmas, Kiss My Ass' and 'That Girl' by All Time Low for the whole day).**

If there's any spelling mistakes or grammar problems could you please tell me, as I don't have a beta? Thank you! (I also understand, reading back through it that it's a bit all over the place again)

Okay, I don't know if floriology is the proper word (apparently it's not even a real one) but that's what google told me! So apparently floriology is the study of the meaning of flowers.

I also have noticed that one or two of you are confused about whether Hermione will keep passing out every time they touch. I've seen that I guess I haven't explained that very well. Basically, Hermione faints ONCE at their touch and then never again. I hope that solves the problem. Sorry.

Please favourite, follow and review!


	16. Proving Points

Draco was only halfway up the stairs leading away from the dungeons when he realised that there was no _need_ for Hermione to go to the Hospital Wing. She wasn't hurt (and if she _was_ then the bracelet would've already taken care of it), just unconscious. With that thought in mind, he continued up the stairs and instead turning right to go where he was meant to, he turned left and started to head towards their common room.

It wasn't long into the journey before Hermione woke up. It started off slow, just the twitching of eyelashes as she came back around to consciousness, and then the shifting in his arms, though Draco paid her movements no attention. Hermione however froze when she realised that she was being held and whoever it was (a man, she thought, by the spicy smell of his robes) was taking her somewhere. She didn't know whether they were still in Hogwarts, she could've been kidnapped for all she knew – she could only remember being in Potions, but even then her thoughts were scattered and fuzzy. It was only moments later though, that she realised that there would be no way that she could be kidnapped in Hogwarts when no one could Apparate or Disapparate on the grounds, and it wasn't as if a kidnapper could just stroll out of the castle holding her. She relaxed a little at that, but not by much – she still needed to be on her guard. For now though, she allowed them to carry her.

* * *

She didn't know when she lost consciousness again, but she woke up when she was placed on the cold, stone floor – she always was a light sleeper, even before the War. She allowed herself to quickly and briefly look around, after checking that he (definitely a boy, she decided, after seeing his shoes at the ends of his trousers) was facing away from her from how his feet were positioned. Hermione couldn't gather any information from the Hogwarts corridor that she was in, everywhere in Hogwarts looked familiar to her after seven years of being there and since most places looked identical, there was nothing she could discern about her location. Although she knew now that she was definitely still in Hogwarts, she was still highly suspicious of what was happening even with the nagging voice in the back of her head that was saying that she's perfectly safe and fine. Taking advantage of the current situation, Hermione carefully, inch by inch, moved her hand to her robe pocket and tightly gripped her wand, giving the impression that she moved her hand there in her sleep. She froze when she heard him muttering some obscenities under his breath. She heard a door click a few seconds later, relaxed once again to continue with the unconscious act when she heard his footsteps move toward her again, and was lifted into his muscular arms. A few steps forward and Hermione curiously noticed that the arms that were holding her slightly tensed as if they were no longer holding a feather but instead a sack of flour, and, strangely, Hermione took a little bit of joy in this. _Good_, she thought,_ I hope that I'm causing you hard work and you're getting tired of carrying me. Merlin, I hope that you put me down soon so I can hex your-._ Unfortunately, it seemed that whoever it was wasn't finding it that much of a struggle to hold her as one hand shifted to curve round the side of her and the other reached out to close the door so softly that Hermione wouldn't have heard it if it wasn't pin-drop silent wherever she was. After the hands moved back to their original places, he started to walk again.

He was jogging up some stairs now and despite her best efforts to keep her eyes closed the entire time he was carrying her, as she was bouncing in his arms her eyes popped open long enough for her to catch a glimpse of one thing: black robes and a Slytherin emblem. And that's when the memories of Potions came back:

The Professor switched Malfoy and Ron.

They were making Draught of the Living Dead.

He was staring at her.

She accidentally stabbed him with a knife and the cut repaired immediately.

She uncharacteristically ruined the potion and Malfoy had to fix it.

She got annoyed at Malfoy for not being over Pureblood supremacy.

Grabbing his wrist.

The electricity.

His alarmed face.

Her shock.

Feeling triumphant.

Black.

* * *

_Malfoy. _

Malfoy. It was Malfoy who was holding her, she realised, although she wasn't sure how she came to that conclusion. For all she knew, it could've been Zabini that was carrying her. He was, after all, the only other Slytherin in that class; but something about that didn't seem right like believing that it was Malfoy felt. Now, if she did pass out, like the immediate black of her memories suggested, then it would've made sense for Cassidy to order someone to take her the Hospital Wing (again) or back to the common room. She guessed that she was more likely in the common room because Malfoy had to unlock a door to get in and in the Hospital; none of the doors were ever locked. The Professor himself could've done it, but he wouldn't have been holding her and Hermione definitely would've known if it was Ron or Harry holding her – even without seeing the house logo. Something definitely happened and, in a way, Hermione was almost glad that it was Malfoy – it meant that he'd have to suck up his stupid, egotistic, bigoted Pureblood and even _worse_, his _Malfoy pride_ to make actual contact with her.

By now, they were (or at least Hermione believed they were) at the top of the staircase and Hermione froze with realisation. Malfoy's room was the very last one – the one at the top of the stairs, she remembered because she'd spent the past week trying to avoid that very door and its occupant. Therefore, if they were at the top of the stairs then they were...going in his room. Hermione was suddenly very glad that she still had her grip on her wand – the only way she was going in that room would be kicking and screaming. Her hand tightened around her wand when she felt his arms shift again so that he was holding her with one arm, ready to hex him to the next century and back as soon as that godforsaken white door clicked open. When she felt him hesitate to open the door, her hand loosened slightly but when she felt his muscles shift as he moved and felt him pull her robe, her wand dug into his neck before he even had time to blink.

"Well I see you're awake," he drawled, moving his eyes to stare directly into hers. She glared and him and as she was at the moment distracted with opening her mouth to interrogate him, he plunged his hand into her robe pocket and pulled out her key. When she realised, she screeched in frustration and pushed away from him, stumbling on her feet as they hit the floor. Draco pretended not to notice or not to care as he watched the little red otter bare its teeth at him. When she saw that he wasn't paying any attention to her and still had her key, she turned on him.

"How dare you just – just go in my pocket and take my key like that! What were you doing, huh? You – you pathetic, ungentlemanly-"

"Ungentlemanly? Granger, is that even a word?" Draco interrupted her.

"I'll use fake words if I want to Malfoy! Don't interrupt-" Hermione said waving her wand at him threateningly.

"I'm just saying, the Brightest Witch of Her Age can't even use _real_ words. I wonder what-"

"Fine Malfoy," Hermione growled. "You are the very epitome of someone who is _not _a gentleman-" She emphasized her point by prodding Draco in the chest after each word until he had had enough and snatched it from her grasp as well as interrupting her tirade again.

"Not a gentleman," Draco scoffed, holding her wand out of her reach. "I'll have you know that only a gentleman would carry you from the Dungeons to here without putting you down-"

"Don't lie! You put me down outside the Tower. And anyway, what kind of gentleman doesn't offer help when a lady stumbles-"

"Wait, you were awake? And you just let yourself be carried by Death-"

"Shut up! Shut up Malfoy! I can't be bothered to argue with you anymore, it's pointless. Now give me my key and my wand and get lost." She held out her hand for things. Draco sighed, slightly disappointed that their little argument had ended so quickly. He dropped his arm down from above his head and just as she reached out to snatch the wand from him as he was dangling it a few inches above her palm, he lifted it quickly out of her grasp.

"I accept your thanks by the way," he said sarcastically, placing the wand and key in her palm properly.

"You're welcome," She said dryly, placing the key into her door and turning it, not facing him. "I accept your apology.

"And what, exactly, do I have to apologise for? For not rescuing you from being tortured in Malfoy Manor because I-"

"Oh spare me the speech! I already know you couldn't have done anything to help, even if you wanted to – I _am _the Brightest Witch," she said scathingly with an eye roll. "You have to apologise for..." Hermione hesitated for a second. "Well, I don't know what you did precisely, but it was like torture! When you touched me – in the common room – while we were discussing how to make the portrait – 6 days _ago_. I _know _you remember Malfoy, you were screaming too and I intend to find out what happened that day." Draco went rigid was ready to start denying everything, before he stopped himself, realising that he probably would sound defensive. She didn't look behind her to see his expression and walked into her room, shutting the door behind her but Draco wasn't quite done with talking to her. He caught the door before it closed and walked into her room after her. When she didn't hear her door close, she looked over her shoulder and rolled her eyes when she saw Malfoy in the room.

"Well I can't exactly apologise for something unknown to you, can I? Besides, I think I made up for it. I don't know whether Madam Pomfrey told you but I was the one to take you to her after-"

"I tripped over _you? _You _did _redeem yourself temporarily for that, but it _was _your fault, therefore it just cancelled itself out," She pointed out. "You've redeemed yourself of everything except that day Malfoy and this time, I want an apology."

Draco smirked, leaning against her wall. "I thought you hated me more than this Granger."

"I believe in redemption and I believe the best time for redemption is after a war."

"So, what? What else is it that you want from me?" Draco asked sceptically, raising one of his eyebrows.

"Nothing. All I want is an apology," Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes at his paranoia. "And since you've probably never apologised to someone in your life, I don't care how bad it is."

"I'm _sorry _Granger," Draco drawled with a little wiggle of his head. "That's the best you're going to get so you better accept it." He pushed himself up from the wall and crossed the room to stand in front of Hermione who was glaring at him. "Now, I'd like to hear some thanks for carrying you everywhere."

Hermione hummed, crossing her arms. "Why were you carrying me anyway? Am I correct in thinking that I passed out?"

"Right after you touched me," Draco nodded his head, smirking. "Of course, there's nothing unusual about that – loads of girls have passed out after touching me. I wouldn't count you any different. Not to worry though, that git of a professor isn't actually _that _bad. As soon as you went down, he sent me to take you to the Hospital Wing - but it isn't like your hurt so I brought you here – and he's finishing our potion for us."

"Malfoy! You can't call a professor a git," she lectured, standing up from her perch on the chair, making herself face-to-face (or more like face-to-chest) with him. She looked up at him to look him at the eye and cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows drawing together in interest. "Well, thank you anyway. Oh, and speaking of Potions, I've got something to ask you."

Draco looked down at her cautiously. She'd already noticed much more than he would've liked _and _he was worried that if she hadn't yet, then she'd soon figure out that he was part Veela. And after that, how much longer would it be before she figures out that she was his Mate? He only just barely made up an excuse about why she fainted, although some of it _was _the truth. He wondered briefly if she actually believed him and why she was being so nice of a sudden. Maybe it was their special connection to each other, though the book never said that it would cause their mood to change so quickly, only that they would be curious. Perhaps it was written in another book, he'd have to do some more reading if that was the case; he didn't want to think that winning her over was going to be easy when it most likely wasn't. "Ask away," he said.

"Well," she said slowly. "I accidentally stabbed you in Potions. It wasn't that big, but it did cut you and seconds later, it healed itself. What did you do? I didn't see you use your wand or anything and it was like you didn't even notice."

Draco went rigid again. This was the very thing that he was worried that she was going to ask him. He never realised until now, just how much attention she actually paid him. All the little things that had been happening she'd taken note of. It was a great mystery why she hadn't shown any sign of knowing or just confronting him about his heritage, surely she'd take immense pleasure in knowing how hypocritical his family were to her when they weren't even Pureblood's themselves and revealing the news to everyone so the public would have more reason to hate him than they already do. He looked at her face – she was studying him again, probably waiting for an odd reaction such as this one. Should he tell her anything or should he just say that he didn't know and back out of the room as fast as he could? What kind of lie could he fabricate that would make complete sense? "I have no idea what you're talking about Granger. I think you've finally lost it – claiming to have seen such a strange thing," Draco said, shaking his head and taking a step backwards, ready to leave before something slipped out.

Hermione gave a small manic chuckle. "Hm, now see, I think you're lying to me," she said and quickly she grabbed a hold of Draco's arm. Before he could stop her, she pulled up his robe sleeve and, keeping a firm grip on him as she started to wriggle his arm free, pointed her wand at his pale skin, muttering a spell that created a gash on his arm. Draco hissed at the pain, started to curse and shout obscenities, twisting his arm more frantically now, as Hermione tried not to lose her hold, and watched, almost crazily, to see if the skin healed as fast as it did in Potions. Alas, she didn't get to look long as he pulled his arm back, cradling it to his chest as it bled.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you woman? Merlin, you really have lost it haven't you? Going around, being civil to people and then attacking them to try prove some point that your crazed mind has made up!" As Draco backed out of the room, glaring at her fiercely, Hermione refused to accept that it was a one off thing and came after him.

"I'm not making this up! I saw it! I saw it Malfoy and I want to know what is going on with you this year!" She protested. Draco spun round when he got to the steps and stomped down them, still cursing under his breath, but quiet enough so that Hermione couldn't hear him. There was no need to for her to hear him cursing his Veela ancestors, his Mate's _stupidly _clever mind and curiosity and the goddamn Charms on the Tower. But most of all, Draco Malfoy was still cursing the Fates for his unfair life. He crossed the common room quickly with his long strides, threw open the door to let himself out and slammed it shut hoping to keep Granger away from him for a little bit longer while he repaired himself. If she couldn't see it happen, he could just say that he knows some very good healing Charms. He pulled his arms away from his robes as he stepped outside the Tower and allowed himself a sigh of relief as the pain ebbed away. His relief however, didn't last long.

"I knew it," she breathed. "I knew I saw something happen in Potions! You just did it now." She looked completely satisfied with herself for knowing that _something _was up, though she still didn't know just how complicated the situation was and what the technicalities of it was, but she was sure as hell was going to find out – even if she had to _force _Veritaserum down his throat herself!

"When did you get there?" Draco found himself stupidly asking. However, it was something he wanted to know. Although, thinking about it now, he didn't recall hearing the door slam shut; she must've flown down the stairs to catch up with him so quickly.

How was he supposed to explain all this?

* * *

**A/N- I don't really know how to explain Draco's behaviour in this but he's _trying _without the Veela side there to help...And Hermione...Well the past week has really been messing with her mind and not to mention it's been mostly Malfoy and let's not forget that all the happenings have been playing heavily on her mind. She's been craving answers and she didn't care whether it was Draco that would have to give it to her. She _needed _them. Today. **

**I don't know whether ungentlemanly is a word or not. Microsoft Word says that it isn't but the dictionary on my iPod gladly defines it. So I'm not too sure about that...**

**Erm, yeah, I think that's all I want to say.**

**Please favourite and review!**


	17. Way Past Being Obsessive

**A/N- Ah, okay, so I'm not entirely sure that I like this chapter, but I hope that you do. I just don't tend to like the things that I do.**

**Also, thanks to Chester99 for the ideas!**

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Anger.

Pure, white-hot anger coursing through his body.

Anger for being so caught up in himself that he didn't hear the door close; anger for not being as careful as he should've been with his new traits; anger at Hermione for following him; anger at the first Veela that married into the Malfoy family and condemning them all to a horrible life. Out of everything in the world that has been ruining his life since the goddamn day he was born until now, he found himself unable to put much blame onto Hermione. Putting all the blame on his life however, now that was easy. Why did he become so at ease with the witch when he'd hated her for years? He wasn't meant to be acting like that with her and she definitely wasn't supposed to be talking to him like that either! He said sorry to the woman but he didn't mean it! He was just comfortable with her that all this nonsense about hating her slipped away.

Okay, fine. When he saw the blood on the floor the other day he decided that all the remarks about 'dirty blood' was utter crap. Her blood was exactly the same as his – no cleaner and no dirtier – and he couldn't be bothered to hate it when he wanted to have her blood so badly (but like he'd said before – not in the Vampiric way). It just didn't make sense even to _try _hating her for it. Now, though - _now _that the Mudblood thing was out of the way, he had no other reason to hate her – well, apart from how annoying he finds her.

Anyway, back to the rant about why this Veela thing was getting out of control and how it was now affecting the beloved Wizard part of him that he'd hoped would stay on his side against Granger for the rest of his life.

It was almost as if he'd never said anything to hurt her before, as if they'd were just being closer than acquaintances – even their little arguments weren't damaging to any relationship that they had – whatever their relationship was. And her little burst of obsession over knowing what was going on with him made him concerned that it was actually all his antics and involvements in her life recently had caused her to just snap completely. Like, seriously, going around cutting people after seeing that their skin magically healed _once _just to prove that there was something magical and secretive going on with him – that was just horrendously psychotic. Moreover, just thinking about this made him wonder why on Earth had she gone for those questions, surely with this much curiosity she'd have asked why he was so friendly with Luna when she stumbled upon him the other day. He'd have been happy to answer that question, especially since he'd be happy to believe that her curiosity was actually jealousy.

He'd believe anything if it meant it seemed that he had more of a chance at living.

However, putting himself into denial wasn't really the point of all this.

The _real _point of all this was Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin, Ex-Death Eater, Returning Eighth Year, Part-Veela and Mate of Hermione Granger, was fucking _furious_.

Somewhere in the back of his mind did he register the fact that she was saying something or _had said something, _but detailsof whatever she _did _say wasn't important to him anymore. He couldn't care less about what she said or did through the rage.

He raked a hand through his hair, messing up what he'd tried so hard that morning to perfect, as his chest heaved from his erratic breathing caused by the stress. He didn't need to think twice as his feet swung his body around (he couldn't even remember when he had turned away from Granger) and stalked towards her. Anyway, even if she _was _talking, she stopped when she caught sight of him.

Hermione's eyes widened as she caught sight of Draco coming towards her. She had never seen someone so enraged – she didn't even understand how he could even _be _that livid over what had just happened. Even the famous Weasley temper couldn't hold anything to him and that was saying something considering the amount of times she'd seen Ron, Ginny and Molly shout – and Draco hadn't even _said _anything yet. She remembered seeing him angry before - during that trip to the library – but compared to now, he looked relatively docile.

It was only when Malfoy was a few feet away from her and still coming forward like a steam train, did she realise that he wasn't going to stop. She mustered up all her Gryffindor courage and made herself as tall as she could be; waiting bravely for whatever impact was to come her way. She didn't know why, but she almost _knew _that Malfoy wouldn't dare to hit her. Purebloods were traditional, they believed in acting like ladies and gentleman and, though half of them were Death Eaters who performed the Killing Curse and unnecessary torture on Muggle-borns and Muggles, she was sure that even they looked down on abuse to women. Still, Hermione flinched when she felt his fingers wrap around her upper arms and lifted her up (apparently, being no heavier than a feather again) so that she was at the same eye level as him, only to be pushed back into a wall. He wasn't hurting her – much. I mean, it wasn't as if she was _slammed _into the wall but neither was she pushed into it gently, she was sure that there wouldn't even be any bruises on her back from it in the morning. Although, she couldn't say the same for her arms; she could practically _feel _the red fingerprints on her skin. When she actually _looked _into his eyes however, she wasn't as shocked as the others had been to discover that they were black, her mind was much more caught up in the fact that his nose was only millimetres away from hers and there was a strange sound coming from him. It...It sounded like he was (_'But no, he couldn't be...could he?) _growling.

Sure it was hard to keep his Wizard in control when Hermione was so close to him and her luscious sent was filling his nostrils - not to mention the sexiness of her being pushed up against the wall – but if he really cared about her at this moment, he wouldn't be holding her so tightly, now would he? Truth be told, he felt the same way that he did six days ago when he transferred some of his pain into her, he felt that she deserved this treatment. If she wanted to know about him so badly then so be it - she could face his consequential wrath. He was surprised though, to find that she wasn't even trying to wriggle free of his grip, that she was just taking all of this. Nevertheless, it didn't mean that there wasn't any anger in her over it, oh no, there was definitely a spark of it in her eyes, despite the fact that her face remained almost impassive.

His hot breath hit her face in pants but when he spoke, it was in a deathly quiet voice that made her a bit more nervous than a loud Draco would've done. She didn't know why, but it did. "Listen here Granger," he snarled, putting extra emphasis on her name as if trying to prove his own point to her. "I don't know what the fuck you think you're doing, but in case you've forgotten we _aren't _friends and we _never _will be, so next time you want to know something about me – just forget about it or do what all your little friends do and not care. You have no reason to be in my life more than necessary, so butt out of it."

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she pushed away from the wall as much as she could, trying to look at least a little bit intimidating, though from how she was being held (by both his arms and body), she couldn't move very much. "I'll have you know Malfoy," she spat, "I, in no way, see you as anything close as a friend – not even as a confidant. All I want to know is what the bloody hell has been going on with you since September!"

Draco chuckled mockingly, though his eyes were locked onto hers and showed no trace of any other emotion than rage. He pushed Hermione back further into the wall from where she had come forward, and pinned her there more firmly with his body. "You shouldn't _want _to know anything about me! If I've changed since the War then hooray for me, but as I said, you _shouldn't care _nor should you have even _noticed_. Okay? _My _life isn't _your _business!"

"I don't want to know _everything!_ I just want to know what's _wrong _with you! Why-why you _heal_ like that!"

"What's wrongwith me? What's _wrong _with _me? _You shouldn't care what happens to me! Don't you get it? There isn't anything wrong with me – there's something wrong with _you!_"

She spluttered indignantly, offended by the accusation. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her, thank you very much! "No, don't you get it?" She sneered. "I don't _want _your life to be my business but-"

"No! No '_buts'_, '_ifs'_ or '_howevers'_! Granger, I swear if you _ever_ _dare _to attack me _again_ or _accuse _me-"

"Rightly accused!" Hermione protested, struggling a little in his arms when his grip tightened even more. "You were rightly accused, Malfoy."

"I don't care!" He roared. "I don't fucking care! More to the point, why do you even care? Why are you so suddenly obsessed with my life – with what I do? What drove you to do something so bloody psychotic?"

"I just want to know, _okay_? Is it such a problem for you?" She snapped.

"What, can the Gryffindor _Princess_," he spat the word as if it were poison in his mouth, "not stand not knowing something?" Hermione's cheeks reddened slightly from embarrassment despite her best efforts form trying to keep her blush down and despite her growling 'shut up Malfoy', pushing up from the wall as best as she could again, he burst into derisive laughter. "Merlin, it's true! Well, I'll tell you this," He leaned forward and for a terrifying moment, Hermione thought that he was going to kiss her their faces were so close, however that was not the case. He brought his lips close to her ear and his breath tickled the back of her neck as he spoke. "If I ever find you in the library trying to research something that has anything to do with me - if I ever even _hear _you talking to someone _about _me or this nice little meeting we're having I swear, the next time I'd see you, it'll be worse than this. Much, much worse."

He was going to threaten to kill her, but he felt that that might have been crossing the line. Besides, being close to her was calming him enough as to not have fire coming out of his hands or wings out his back, but he was still pretty infuriated. Pulling his head back away from her neck though, he realised that her scent was most potent there and much to his annoyance, he felt his Veela close enough to the front of his mind to make him nip a part of her neck as he completely brought his head back to face her. He heard her gasp, though it was so quiet that he shouldn't have in _normal _circumstances, but, then again, when had any of their lives ever been normal?

He grinned at her, showing off his white teeth, his eyes now twinkling with slyness. It seemed that his anger had left him almost entirely, if not then he was at least pushing it down and hiding it for some reason when only minutes ago he was happily displaying it. Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion and silent outrage. How dare he threaten her! How dare he even bite her and then look at her as if he were daring her to say something about it or _do _something about it. Really, though she would never admit it to even herself, she was angry that the stupid little gesture from someone she didn't give two damns about - from _Malfoy – _had managed to make her heart speed up. She couldn't even begin to comprehend why her body would even _respond _to that! Luckily, she was able to keep her blush down this time with great effort – it was already bad enough that he could probably feel how fast her heart was beating. "What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" She whispered harshly.

"How many times do I have to tell you to _not care_ about what I do?" He said irritably. "If – if, I even do this," he moved his head round to the other side of her neck and brushed his lips against the skin by her ear, light enough for it not to be considered a kiss, but for Draco it was something just as forbidden for his Wizard. Hermione shook her head from side to side, trying to get herself away from his lips, getting more irritated by the man by the minute and the godforsaken butterfly flapping about in her stomach. However, it wasn't as if moving her head made any difference to what was happening, especially when he shifted his body so that it was now also leaning on one of her arms, so that he could use his spare hand to hold onto her chin and keep her still. He was looking back at her, with the same manic grin, only seconds later. "You shouldn't think twice of that now or even hours later. Whatever I do means nothing."

She wriggled in his grip again, but his hands were as firm as iron and with her legs placed either side of his body, she saw no way of escaping him. She had tried kicking him from where her legs had been placed, but that had resulted in her legs being more or less wrapped around his waist, and that was a position she did _not _want to be in under any circumstances. Loose bits of hair fell into her eyes, which she had to unsuccessfully blow out of her face, but it didn't matter to Draco – it just made her look sexy. "Ah, okay Malfoy. I don't care what you do to me if I interfere in your bloody life again, but _I_ swear that if you put that disgusting mouth anywhere near me again then I won't hesitate to-"

"You won't hesitate to..._what_? What _can_ you do Granger - you're trapped." He said, amusement laced into his voice but not enough to draw her attention away from that maliciousness of his comment. His eyes glinted darkly in the corridor and for a moment, subjected to his mercy, Hermione became worried about what he could be possibly thinking in that ferrety head of his. Was he was just going to let her go with his last words in mind? A part of Hermione doubted that that was going to happen though; most likely, he was just going to display just what kind of power he had over her again. He was probably going to use his mouth to do it, just because Hermione told him not to. Draco, of course, was considering doing _something_ but injuring her just simply wasn't appealing anymore. He wasn't sure when his Veela side had taken control of most of his mind, but he suspected that it was because of the feeling of his lips against her bare skin. He didn't even know what he was doing anymore really, he thought - somewhere in the back of his mind where his thoughts weren't mainly aboutwhat he _could_ do to her – that he was showing her reasons why she shouldn't care about him. Maybe it was also a thing about power; that he was _better _than she was and he could do what he wanted. He could do what he wanted to _her _and she couldn't stop him. Yes, he now thought, yes this was definitely about power. If he wanted to (and _dear God_ did he want to at that moment) he could...

Draco focused his thoughts back onto her and his eyes to look straight back into hers, which were glaring at him. Just to annoy her, he decided, though he also wanted to look at what he couldn't touch as well, he let his eyes wander down her face, taking in every detail until his eyes reached her lips. They were turned down into a frown and he could imagine that her eyes were also narrowed, but still, her pink lips still looked perfect and plump. Soft too, he thought. Soon, he found himself wondering what would happen if he did prove his point by kissing her. It certainly was tempting. I mean, she was right _there; _pinned up against the wall in front of him and pressed against his body. He could undoubtedly do it, all he had to do was lean forward a couple of centimetres and they'd be kissing. However, he didn't exactly – as kinky as it was – want her _biting _him. After all, she still had full use of her mouth to do whatever and it would be extraordinarily surprising if she actually – of her own free will – joined in. She couldn't head butt him though, he still held her chin in his hand, so it was just her mouth that he was wary of.

_Of her own free will..._

The phrase kept repeating in his head and after a moment, it finally clicked. He remembered what Blaise had told him when he was trying to get him to plan his funeral. Hermione didn't _have _to have free will – Draco could take it from her. Just for a moment, at least. The possession (or Veela Charms) took the exact same process as it did when transferring his emotions, except that he had to focus his mind entirely on Hermione, although that wasn't that difficult considering most of it already was. In addition, the Charms would work as long as he was maintaining contact to her, which he would be and already was. Once he did that, it would be as if she was under the Imperius Curse. Briefly, Draco wondered whether it was _exactly _like the Imperius Curse and whether she'd remember what happened afterwards. He shrugged it off only seconds later, if she did remember, it'd only mess with her mind even more.

Yes, if Draco were going to kiss her, he would've preferred it if it was of her own free will - but on the downside of it, he felt that it would be unlikely that he'd ever have the chance before he kicked the bucket. So, yes, he was going to take the opportunity whilst it was there. She was up against the _wall _for Merlin's sake! How could he _not _kiss her!

He smirked, looking down at her lips again then back to her eyes and Hermione felt her stomach sink. _Oh Jesus, he's – he's not going to – no, no, he wouldn't – he won't._ She gasped from relief and surprise when his hands loosened their grips on her arms instead of kissing her, as she believed he would. However, that relief didn't last long as she felt all thoughts slipping away from her head and she desperately tried to keep hold of them, scared about what was happening. Soon, it was as if her brain had been put on mute and Hermione was watching what was happening from a distance.

A lazy smile was on Draco's face as he focused on nothing else but Hermione and watched, entranced, as her eyes darkened from light brown to black – matching his own colour. It was when they were wholly black that Draco allowed himself to be smug at how well he managed to put her under his control. He watched her for a second, just taking in every detail without a frown marring her features; what her coppery lashes looked like in contrast to her light skin as they fanned her cheeks and how she had a dusting of freckles so light, that you could only see them when you were up close.

He leaned in then, stopping when their noses touched, pausing to see whether there would be any reaction from her at all. From the closeness, he couldn't really see her smile, but from how the corners of her eyes creased and her eyes lit up, he could tell that she was. He smiled back at her, feeling almost _relaxed _(something that he hadn't felt in a while) and without a second thought, tilted his head and closed the distance between them.

Draco found his heart stammering when their lips finally touched. He could almost hear the air around them crackling with energy as he moved his hand from her chin and, none too gently, weaved his hand through her curly locks, trying to bring them even closer than they already were, as all his self-control began to slip away. Her lips fit perfectly against his and he groaned when she wrapped her arms around his neck and he felt her tugging at his hair.

It seemed that she wasn't completely void of emotion and could still react, unlike she'd be able to during the Imperius. Perhaps the Charms only numbed her mind, made her stop over thinking everything – made her stop thinking about anything at all and just allowed her to be his Mate. After all, it _was _Blaise who told him and it wasn't as if Blaise was a Veela and therefore had no experience or true understanding to what the Charms actually did. Then again, Draco wasn't so sure that anyone really knew what happened – it definitely wasn't the Mate seeing as they had no idea what was _really _going on.

She was driving him crazy and she wasn't even totally there in the head. He couldn't get enough of her as he wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him, which she responded to by wrapping her legs around his waist. He softly prodded her lip with his tongue, asking for entrance. Hermione gasped and Draco once again took advantage, deepening the kiss.

Draco broke away only seconds later when he heard a few footsteps echoing in the corridor. In his clouded mind, he couldn't tell how close they were or how many people it could've been, but he knew that he had to go before whomever it was found him like...Well, was there any other way to describe what he looked like? It was pretty self-explanatory really. He didn't want to end such a good couple of minutes on someone finding him looking as he did, and he especially didn't want to risk looking at Hermione and how alluring her swollen lips and messed up hair was and forget about ever leaving. He pushed her legs off from around his waist and then let go of her completely and took a large step back, distancing himself from her as the Veela Charms slipped away and her eyes went back to normal, showing that she was in her right state of mind once again. She looked confused at first, as if she had woken up from a vivid dream in a strange place, but as she took in Draco's dishevelled appearance, realisation began to dawn on her face and a myriad of emotions crossed her face (mostly horrified and seething), Draco was suddenly feeling that it wasn't a particularly good idea. She took a threatening step towards him, her arm raised and finger pointed at him and though her hand wasn't positioned in a way to slap him, Draco remembered that she didn't look like she was going to hit him in Third Year and he didn't want to risk it again. Quickly – a whole lot quicker than Hermione had time to react because of his new speed – he whipped out his wand and cast the Confundus Charm on her. She shuddered as the spell hit her and her arm dropped lifelessly and she looked around herself in confusion; confused about how she had gotten back to the Tower and why Draco Malfoy was standing in front of her.

Draco rocked back on his heels a few times, observing the effectiveness of the spell, when he heard the footsteps coming even closer. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it with an audible snap and just as Granger was about to say something, he turned briskly around, muttered 'Granger' as a goodbye and left as quick as he could.

XXXXXXX

Her daze didn't last for long, Draco didn't intend for it to anyway, only long enough for him to make his escape. When the confusion finally lifted, she sunk to the floor in humiliation as what just happened flashed through her mind. Hermione tried to go back through her memories, as she ran her hands through her hair (which didn't do anything to help her appearance), to try work out what had happened, what was going through her mind that caused her to actually respond to the ferret. Of course, she was still..._disgusted _that he had taken advantage of her when there was nothing that she could do to stop him (especially when she had not yet mastered the ability of wandless magic), and she was even more disgusted with herself when she felt her cheeks heating up every time she thought about it. She even went as far as shuddering as she remembered the feeling of his hands on her.

_Nevertheless, I shouldn't care what he did, he said as much. That-that kiss was just proving his point. It means _nothing._ He's – he's _Draco Malfoy, _he's been with loads of girls. Right? _Right_. I remember what he was like with Parkinson. _

However, Hermione still couldn't help but dwell on what happened. So far was she gone into her thoughts, that she didn't notice when Blaise had showed up. He didn't make his appearance known straight away, preferring to observe the Gryffindor Princess who was slumped on the floor. He smirked to himself, satisfied that Draco was _certainly_ getting along with Granger, perhaps a whole lot better than Blaise had thought he would. In a way, he was almost disappointed that he didn't see the momentous moment of when Draco just decided to 'succumb to his desires', as Blaise liked to call it. Truth be told, Blaise had actually been sent to go find Draco seeing as Potions had finished half an hour ago, and he had yet to return for his things _and _Cassidy wanted to speak to him; but stopping to talk to Granger probably wasn't going to delay him, maybe she even knew where he went. He kicked her foot lightly and by the widening of her eyes as her snapped towards where he was standing, he could tell that he startled her. The smirk on his face didn't falter as he crossed his arms and made a big display of looking her up and down (to which she blushed at again, though glared at him for doing it), and said, "Well, well, well Granger. Did you ever even make it to the Hospital as you were meant to? Or did you get too distracted along the way?"

"Shut up Zabini, I'm not in the mood," Hermione snapped, getting up off the floor and brushing the dust off her skirt.

"Seems like you were 'in the mood' a couple of minutes ago..." Blaise muttered under his breath, but in the silence, it was loud enough for Hermione to hear. She fixed him with a deathly glare, fighting down yet another blush.

"What do you want?" She huffed, frustrated.

"Oh, I was just wondering where Malfoy had gotten off to. Perhaps you've seen him?" He tried to keep the amusement out of his words, but he couldn't do it and started sniggering seconds after the words left his mouth.

"Hilarious. How do you know that-that he even _did _this to me anyway? It could've been anyone." Hermione said, crossing her arms and looking him directly in the eye.

"Anyone? Really Granger? Everyone else was in class and obviously; he was with you the whole time because he didn't come back to the dungeons. Besides, you look like you just had the life kissed out of you and you honestly _think _that Malfoy would let _anyone _do that to _you?" _Blaise shook his head in disbelief. Did Draco not explain anything? Surely, he didn't do something as _stupid _as not tell her that she was his Mate before or after his kissed her. If he did, Granger should know what Blaise meant, but maybe she was just playing dumb to keep Draco's secret. She didn't know that he knew after all.

To Blaise, the only way to explain the sort of reaction that Hermione had to what he'd said was that she looked like she had the wind knocked out of her. Then, in the complete absurdity of everything that had happened in the wholeday (first the gift, then the incident in Potions, waking up in Malfoy's arms and kissing in the hallway) and now the ridiculous statement from Zabini, Hermione burst into hysterics. Blaise looked at Hermione as if she'd completely lost her mind, though it seriously looked like she had. He couldn't even see anything funny about the situation. His friend was _dying _and Granger didn't even believe Draco's loyalty. "It's true," Blaise insisted, causing Hermione to sober up just enough to give him a pointed look.

"Uh huh. Hm, listen, Zabini. Draco Malfoy and I hate each other. What reason would he have to care if someone else kissed me?" Blaise was about to interrupt, but she didn't give him a chance. "Exactly. There is none. I do admit that your reasoning is perfectly sound, but the only reason he did this was-was _because_ he was trying to prove a point. Look, you wouldn't understand, I'm not even sure I do entirely. I mean I can't even _begin_ imagine why I would-" She broke off, shaking her head and sighing. She didn't mean to release that much information to him. She probably only needed someone to talk to, and Blaise wasn't such bad company. He was a whole lot less insufferable than most Slytherins.

Blaise gave her an odd look but she couldn't understand what she did to warrant such a look directed at her. What Blaise still couldn't understand though, was what the hell actually happened? Granger didn't seem to know _anything. _Sure, Draco never said that he'd ever tell Hermione, only that he'd try get along with her, but why would he kiss her and not tell her _anything? _"Alright then," he sighed himself, running a hand through his black hair. "So you don't know where he is?"

Tiredly, Hermione raised a hand and pointed towards the opposite side of the corridor that Blaise had come through. "He all but ran in that direction," she said wryly. He smiled and nodded curtly, before taking off.

He needed to have a serious talk with Draco.

* * *

**A/N-** **I understand that I was quite repetitive in this (as well as the kiss being sudden), but yeah. I was just having 'One Of Those Days'. Hopefully though, this should start to cause Draco and Hermione to come together!**

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	18. A Thing of Dreams

_Dear Mother and Father,_

_I know I haven't written to you since I've gotten back, but, as you probably can only imagine, I've been busy. I shall properly inform you of the happenings when I return to Malfoy Manor for Christmas, but for now this letter will have to be short as I have many emotions running through me at the moment._

_I have chosen now to write because I thought that you'd like to know how I'm coping with finding my Mate and whether I'm settling into the inheritance well. In some ways, you could say that I am doing fine, but in others, it's a little bit disappointing. It might interest you to know that I have found my Mate, though I will withhold her identity until Christmas as a surprise. Being here and around her, however, hasn't been particularly good for my health and I now only have 247 days left._

_In addition, this might appeal to you more Father, but I am one of the few to shoot fireballs and I have mastered the ability to make my wings appear and disappear at will. Unfortunately, they are more trouble than their worth. I haven't had time to read the book that you've given me, but I have researched about Veela's in the Hogwarts library, which has proved, as I would imagine, just as useful. I will look through your book though, should there be any information that hasn't been said. _

_I eagerly await Christmas,_  
_Draco Malfoy._

Draco signed off his letter with a flourish and began to tuck it into an envelope. He had only managed to start melting the green wax to seal it, when a hand clapped onto his shoulder making him jump and have some of the wax fall onto his skin.

"You've got some explaining to do."

When Draco heard Blaise's voice, he picked the wax off lazily and looked up to his friend with a bored expression after setting down his wand and the rest of the wax. Luckily his lips weren't swollen anymore (he'd hate to have to explain the reason to Blaise), although he kept his hair messy as, from all the looks he was getting from the girls that he passed, he looked sexy. He raised an eyebrow in a silent question as his friend walked round the table to sit opposite him.

"Granger?" Blaise prompted, the very last of his patience running out. Out of everywhere in the castle, never did Blaise think that Malfoy would be sitting in the library, especially since he obviously wanted to escape Granger and this was her favourite place. It hadn't been easy to find Draco.

A faint look of recognition of the situation passed across his face, but seconds later it was gone and he was once again wearing his blank mask. "Hmm...I don't know what you want me to say, Blaise. She fainted at my touch so she's definitely my Mate this time. What else is there?"

"What I want you to say, Malfoy," he said slowly through his gritted teeth, glaring at his idiotic best friend. "Is the reason why, after you clearly snogged the daylights out of her, I just found Granger by the common room confused out of her mind about what had happened."

A look of horror planted itself on Draco's face and he all but threw himself across the table to try to quieten Blaise, in case someone should hear him. They were in the library after all; there were people all around them. "We are not talking about this here," he hissed.

Blaise shook his head adamantly. "No. We are talking about this right here, right now. Your cowardice has really gone too far."  
Draco narrowed his eyes at him, standing up stiffly from the table. "Fine," he said in a deathly low voice. "But if we're going to do this, we're doing it over there where there are less people to eavesdrop." He nodded to a pair of bookshelves over to his right where it seemed to be void of people. Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode over towards it, hearing his chair move and Blaise's footsteps seconds later.

"Well?" Blaise asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the bookshelf.

"How did you find out anyway? Did she tell you?" Draco demanded.

"It wasn't like it could've been anyone else; when I found her, everyone was still in class. So, how did you do it? How did you get her to kiss you back?"

"For the record, it wasn't completely my fault. If you hadn't told me about Veela Charms then I never would've thought about using them."

"You used them?" He asked, incredulous. "That's wrong and you know it! How – how could you even bear to do it?" Draco shrugged, looking bored once again. It was as if he didn't care what he did. Didn't it hurt him inside knowing that it wasn't through her own free will, that he made her do it? "Are you proud?"

Draco looked at him with a smug smirk and he almost seemed to stand a little bit taller. "It may not have been right and she may dislike me even more, but Blaise, it was worth it. So worth it."

Blaise looked at him exasperated. He wasn't meant to be proud of himself! No matter how good the kiss was! "She will confront you Draco eventually, and then what? What are you going to tell her?"

He raised his shoulders and spread his hands out in front of him. "That, obviously, the only reason she kissed me was because she harbours some intense sexual attraction to me and that, lucky for her, I've been in love with her for years. Then proceed to ask her if there's enough time to plan and have a wedding in less than 247 days," he said, highly amused with himself. Blaise, however, didn't seem to get Draco's humour and was looking at him with a less than impressed expression. When was he going to start taking this seriously? Draco sighed and rolled his eyes, feeling the judgement roll off Blaise, causing all of his amusement to disappear and his smirk to slide off his face. He turned around so that his back was now facing Blaise and lowered his eyes to stare at his shoes as they scuffed the carpeted floor. "Did you speak to her?" He asked quietly.

"Yes; I did."

"And why did she think I did it?" He murmured, running a finger across the spines of the books in front of him.

"I don't know, she wouldn't elaborate. Something about you proving a point."

Draco chuckled to himself. "So we keep that excuse," he stated simply.

"And what point were you proving exactly?" He asked curiously.

Draco shrugged. "I was angry. She discovered one of my traits by pure accident. I had to do _something _to get her to leave me alone - shouting wasn't working."

Blaise looked baffled and proceeded to ask his next question with caution. "And what trait was this?" _Please don't let it be a noticeable one, please don't let it be a noticeable one,_ Blaise chanted in his head like a mantra. One of them had to be taking things seriously and if it wasn't going to be Draco, then it was going to be Blaise.

As if reading Blaise's mind, Draco paused for a few moments, jaw set and shoulders tense before replying in a stiff tone, "She saw how I healed."

"Oh," was all Blaise was able to say and Draco hummed in agreement. Moments of silence spread between them with the only sounds coming from the other students all around them and Draco as he took random books down and flicked through the pages. Conveniently, Draco found themselves to be in a part of the Magical Creature section and, flipping the book over that he had been staring at unseeingly, he saw it to be about dragons. Deciding that he may as well utilize his time well in the almost-awkward silence, he placed the book about dragons back and went about looking for one on Veelas. He didn't need to search long before he found one entitled 'Legends of Veela's'. Turning to the contents, he found a chapter that he felt appealed a little bit to the current situation and wasted no time in flipping to the correct page.

Getting Closer:  
_It is said that as the male Veela gets closer to its Mate that their wings, which start off as black, slowly turn white. There is much speculation as to what counts as 'getting closer' to their Mate, but through research and observations that we were permitted to conduct, there are three different ways that we have discovered._

1. They can be close to each other in an emotional way. If they happened to be friends before coming into inheritance then it has also proven to make their wings turn whiter, quicker. Being close emotionally means that they'd be comfortable talking about and confiding their secrets in them or any problems about their life.  
2. They can be close to each other by feeling comfortable enough to share things with each other. For instance, sharing a jacket, food and drinks are some of the things that could be shared. Anything that goes under the phrase, "What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine."  
3. The last one is being physically close. This means that they're comfortable to be touched (holding hands, linking arms, cuddling). It also been shown that something more intimate than the aforementioned, such as a simple kiss, would also cause the wings to whiten.

There are probably many more things that can start the change, but so far, these are the only ones that have been accounted for as general information.

It is also said that once the Veela's wings start to whiten, then the Mate will start to have dreams featuring them both. It has been recorded in at least two accounts that in the dreams, the Veela will be shown in it's true form; meaning that if the Veela is male, it'll be shown with his wings and if they're one of the rare few, then they may be shown throwing fire. Therefore, depending on the sex of the Veela and what traits it possesses, their form in the dream may not look so abnormal. Also, depending on how close they are to the Mate, the dreams may not be so unusual. If they are close to each other, then they may have already featured in dreams so would have no cause for strangeness.

Draco felt as if his stomach had dropped out of his butt. So now, instead of being put off Draco as he had hoped, Hermione was probably going to be even more curious as to why he's suddenly showing up in her dreams with black eyes and wings and fire being thrown from his hands. Oh Merlin, when is life going to go the way that I want? Draco thought as he closed the book with a snap and shoved it back onto the shelf, gaining Blaise's sudden attention. Blaise looked at him, broken out of his stupor and asked Draco the one question that he had refused even to think about, "How are you going to tell her about you being a Veela? I mean, wouldn't it just be easier and better to tell her instead of waiting for her to discover it herself?"

"I don't want to tell her," Draco said like a petulant child. "It's not like it'd make a difference anyway. She still wouldn't like me."

"You have to tell her sometime Draco! You promised that you'd try save yourself and you know that she has a big heart – if being with you means saving a life, then she'll do it," he stressed.

"I know!" He groaned, turning back around to face him, frustrated. "What's even worse that I thought I had put the Hermione Granger off me by kissing her, which was stupid in the first place because – because why would that put her off me? She'd just want to know why! Now apparently my wings have begun to turn white because I kissed her, and do you know what that means? That means that she's going to be having dreams - and not just any dreams-" Draco's eyes flashed as they slowly turned black and he stalked towards Blaise, pointing back towards the place where he had put his book back – "dreams about me in my Veela form."

His hands were hot by now and he was sorely tempted just to throw a fireball across the room, but he resisted knowing that it wasn't going to do anything to help him – he'd just get himself in more trouble. Draco took a step back from Blaise, as by the end of his rant he had ended up right in his face, giving him his personal space back. "You could use that to your advantage, you know," Blaise said.

Draco's lips twitched into his trademark smirk, although it looked more like a grimace and said, ""I had begun to worry whether all your Slytherin traits had vanished. Well, as I said, the argument was over her involving herself, as if she had a right, so just dropping her hints would be counter effective."

"Yes, but even after these 'dreams' or 'dream', she'll still be curious about you. Why not just let her? You know she won't stop until she knows."

Draco hummed in consideration. It was a plausible idea, and it wouldn't take much on his part. If he wanted, he could just make Blaise drop all the hints and besides, Draco probably wasn't going to stop having incidents and so her curiosity probably wasn't going to either. Not as if he cared much anyway, no one could give two damns about what he did apart from, evidentially, Hermione Granger, and there were certain incidents with Hermione that he wouldn't mind repeating. No matter the dreams that she most likely, would receive. Slowly, his smirk-but-was-actually-a-grimace transformed into what it was intended to be as some of his troubles lifted, and said, "Blaise, my friend, that might just sound like a plan."

Blaise grinned, proud that his argument was so convincing since Draco could be extraordinarily stubborn about some things. "So, now that's sorted, what were you writing to your parents about?"

Draco rolled his eyes, giving him a deadpan look. "I'm sure that you could guess. It certainly wasn't about my Transfiguration essay, if you really do need a hint."

He sighed wistfully, "I wish I could see their faces when they see who it is. Don't you?"

"I will actually, I'm telling them at Christmas. You can join us at the Manor, if you'd like; you're always welcome there," he said.

"I best not. I can barely handle you now, when you're angry, I'd rather not deal with Lucius too. I wish the best of luck for you though; perhaps you could bring Granger along instead." Blaise winked at him, enjoying his uncomfortable look at the thought. It was certainly too much for him to imagine. "Anyway, I think I'll be going." He checked his watch, said goodbye to Draco and just as he was about to leave, he told Draco that Cassidy wanted to see him and that he still needed to collect his things.

Draco didn't hang around much longer. Just finished melting his wax and then left for the Owlery, not knowing that, lurking behind the bookcase in the library while talking to Blaise, someone had unintentionally come to acquire, perhaps, all of Draco Malfoy's secrets. Right now though, they had no idea what to do with the information. Do they keep it to themselves and use it as blackmail? Do they tell everyone and have his secret out in the open so that everyone would be able to see what a hypocrite he and his family were? After all, almost everyone knew that being a Veela was a hereditary gene. What about Granger? She had a right to know about this especially since her life was somehow involved with The Draco Malfoy. They could just tell her and no one else – it'd be kinder to Malfoy and less embarrassing for Granger – but all the same, it might just ruin his life just enough. Moreover, what was this business about wings, and saving a life?

_Well_, they thought, if I'm going to do this properly, _I'm going to have to get a better education on Veela's. _

They slipped into the row of bookcases that they were in, knowing that it was the Magical Creatures section of the library, and checked out three books on them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Once finished in the Owlery, Draco headed back down to Potions and strutted into Cassidy's classroom, not caring that he was currently teaching a Third Year class. He stood stoically (although he could feel quite a lot of eyes on him, and could hear the girls whispering about him) at his desk - after gathering his equipment and bag - waiting for Cassidy to finish ordering some students. It didn't take long for him to finish, and, instead of letting his class (who seemed like the most untrustworthy and conniving little brats Draco had ever seen in Ravenclaw and Slytherin) listen in, he lead him outside into the corridor. "I expect you to tell me, Mr Malfoy, if you hear any of them in there, even if it's just a whisper," the Professor said as soon as the door closed.

"Of course Professor," Draco replied, only out of the required politeness that he had to have for all the teachers at the school. "Blaise said you wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes," Cassidy's face turned a bit grim - well, grimmer than it already was. "I just wanted to tell you, after speaking with Headmistress McGonagall about class today, that though you probably are trying your best at settling into your...inheritance and controlling your new instincts, if another incident happens we will be forced to send you home for a couple of days."

"Oh," was all Draco had to say in response. It wasn't a question, as if he wanted to know more details about his 'warning'; it wasn't challenging or angry in any way, it was just said in a really emotionless way. As if Draco knew that he'd have to return to the Manor quite a while before Christmas; perhaps if not tomorrow, then sometime during the next week.

"I hope you understand Mr Malfoy that this is only in the care and wellbeing of our students. The Headmistress knew that it was risky to allow a Veela as young as yourself to stay in the castle, knowing that you still had to find your 'Mate' when she heard that you were indeed returning, but she gave you a chance. Also-"

"Sir," Draco interrupted, "I know. It's also to protect me as well as other things. I understand." Cassidy looked as if he was about to say something else but, Draco, not really caring about this conversation anymore now that the main point had been discussed, saw no point in waiting around any longer. Before the Professor could get a word out, he interrupted again. "Professor Cassidy, I think you should know that your class is trying to brew a Shrinking Potion and are planning to force it down the throat of someone."

He stormed past Draco as soon as the words were out of his mouth, an almost worried look on his face, back into the classroom and, before he left, Draco heard the Professor screaming at the and the wails of a small child.

Clearly, they had managed to succeed.

_Sneaky little bastards._

XXXXXXXXXXXX

_She twisted her lips, looking him up and down as a gentle breeze whipped around her. The curly haired witch then turned her head away from him and gazed around herself for the tenth time since she arrived in the peculiar place. It was unusual, to say the least, and though it made her wonder whether she was actually dead and this was heaven, it was oddly comforting._  
_She'd never been to place a like this, not in any previous dreams, at least._

_It wasn't anything spectacular, just a large, vast area of nothingness. There was ground yes, but it was hard to tell the difference between it and the sky. It was as if there wasn't even a sky. So that was it then – no sky, no sun, no clouds, no moon or stars, but for some reason, there was still wind. When she called out there was nothing but an echo that answered her and only after she walked around aimlessly in a place with no horizon, did she finally come across_ something_. However, it wasn't really what she was expecting in the least._

_So, here she was, standing in some sort of colourless infinity, where the only other things that existed were Draco Malfoy, a tree and an array of flowers between them. She didn't even know why she started talking to him, but it didn't bother her greatly. It was just a dream, right? They didn't_ mean _anything._

_"So I see you do work for the devil after all Malfoy," Hermione said dryly, bringing her head back to face him and eyeing his black angel wings._

_"Oh how witty Granger; but if you'd care to notice, my wings aren't completely black," Draco said, making a big show of shuffling his wings._

_And, true enough, they weren't entirely black. Right at the bottom, where the tips skimmed the would-be ground, there were a few white feathers. Hermione's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Why are they like that?"_

_"Because, I have gotten closer to you," he stated simply. He now tore his eyes away from her face to look at his wings himself. He wasn't particularly fond of them, they were a bit obstructive and a bit heavy, however, they did make him look threatening and if he did say so himself, the black contrasted well with his hair and made him look rather handsome. "Well...sort of."_

_"What? Is that your deal to get back into heaven? I can't imagine why they'd want_ you _back," she scoffed, folding her arms._

_He chuckled, pushing himself away from the tree and took a step towards Hermione so that he was now standing in the flower patch. "That is because Granger, I am no angel. I have no deal with a God and I have no deal with the devil – I am_ me_."_

_"Oh? And, who_ are _you Malfoy? Who are you really?" Hermione asked sarcastically, raising an eyebrow._

_"Angelic by looks," he said, grinning, then spun around and in a blink of an eye, the tree was in flames. "Destructive by nature." Hermione took a step back away from him with wide eyes and her hand over her mouth, staring at the small flame in his hands and then back to the tree. She heard the crackle of the flames, tasted the smoke in the air and watched as a charred branch snapped off, but she wasn't getting any hotter and it seemed, neither was Malfoy who was looking rather smug with himself. _

_She coughed as the amount of smoke increased and dried her throat while Draco just stood there; flapping his wings so that the smoke didn't affect him, though it was just wafting more of it towards her. "Well? Aren't you going to put it out?" He said, looking around him in boredom. Spluttering a bit more as her eyes started to water, Hermione reached into her pocket for her wand (that she was more than sure wasn't there a few minutes ago) and put out the fire with a quick aguamenti. Once put out, the tree was nothing but black and all traces of smoke vanished into thin air. Draco cleared his throat in the silence, catching Hermione's attention again, looked down at his wings and said, "Pity." He clicked his tongue and looked back up to Granger who was staring at him in puzzlement. "I was rather proud of the white feathers. Didn't you like them Granger?"_

_She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. How was she supposed to respond to that? How was she supposed to respond to_ anything _when moments ago, Malfoy had just set something on_ fire _with just his_ hands_? Besides, she didn't even see such a problem with his feathers; the white ones where only covered in ash, all he had to do was wash them. "To be honest Malfoy, I don't particularly think that wizards or witches are meant to have wings," she said as she walked towards him. She thrust her wand at him, which he took hesitantly, and told him, "Here. Wash them."_

_He sat down on the flowers, causing a burst of lemon to assault both of their noses. Hermione scrunched up her nose from the sweetness of the smell and Draco, as if sensing that a question was about to come out of her mouth about it, stated, "What you smell is lemon verbena, apparently it attracts the opposite sex. And the other flower is a bittersweet; it means truth."_

_"Bittersweet it also poisonous," she said dryly. He grinned at her, completely unfazed, as if he had known it all along and was just waiting for her to work it out. Although, he probably was waiting, he seemed to know everything about this place. When he didn't reply, she sighed and asked a question, hoping to understand a bit more. "Why are they here?"_

_"It's your dream. You tell me," he shrugged and went back to cleaning the feathers._

_"If it was_ my _dream you wouldn't be here and everything would_ make sense_."_

_"Good point. But if it were_ my _dream, then you'd not have a chance to speak because we'd be too busy repeating what happened in the corridor yesterday." He smirked and Hermione was filled with an unknown emotion, knowing that he most likely wasn't talking about their argument but what happened_ after _it. He stood back up and handed Hermione her wand back, clearly finished with using it, but he was so close that she had to tilt her head most of the way back to look at his face when he spoke. "Well I don't know Granger; as the bittersweets seem to insinuate, perhaps there's something to learn from this."_

_Hermione looked unconvinced, but a powerful feeling of curiosity had settled over her. "Like what?" She asked quietly, something about the closeness of the two of them seemed to call for their voices to be lowered._

_Draco chuckled humorously as he stepped back away from her and everywhere around her began to darken until she could no longer see anything. When he spoke again, his voice was softer than it had been the entire time he was speaking to her previously but it still echoed all around her. "When you want to learn something, where do you go?"_

And, with a gasp, Hermione awoke.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The library, the library, the library.

She needed to get to the library.

She didn't really know why, but she just needed to get there.

Okay, well, she _did _know why she needed to go there - because Dream Draco Malfoy told her to, well...sort of - but even if he hadn't have implied that she needed to go to the library, she still would've. After all, who doesn't check out a book on dreams after you just had a very vivid one of your enemy and you'd never (through a whole eight years of knowing each other) ever had him feature in one. No matter how small his part was or whether he died or not. She had _smelt and tasted _the smoke and flowers for Merlin's sake! That had never happened before! And even in dream form, she still didn't trust Malfoy, so she needed to find a floriology book and see for herself what bittersweets and lemon verbena implied.

There were just so many things that she needed to find!

Wings, why did he have wings and claim neither to be an angel or a fallen angel?

Why did he have fire?

Why was she even in a completely white infinity for crying aloud? That had never happened before! She'd never been in an infinity of any kind or colour and so, thinking about it, since she visited the land of dreams almost every night since she was born, it was very unusual just to come across it now and seems to know it so well. She could've been walking around for a long time, but she seemed to find Malfoy rather quickly.

Hermione Granger reached the library rather quickly and flitted around the room like a bee on a quest for honey, madly searching for her needed books. She found the one on floriology easily and found, much to her irritation, that the Ferret was indeed correct about bittersweets and lemon verbena. Finding the one on dreams however, proved to be more difficult.

It was only when Hermione had finished searching the entire library twice (including the Restricted Section thanks to permission from Madam Pince, seeing as she was an Eighth Year), did she ask Pince if she could see the record sheet of all the checked out books. She'd only made it to the second page before her eye had gotten drawn to a certain Draco Malfoy and the book that he checked out, which, interestingly enough because he hadn't taken the class, were all linked to Magical Creatures. This proved to be rather interesting. He did definitely look like a magical creature of some sort in her dream - but not an angel, as she had to keep reminding herself. Who said angels existed anyway?

Looking back to Madam Pince, Hermione asked if she could check out the exact same books that Malfoy had more or less a week ago. Malfoy had returned them only days later, and she doubted that anyone else would borrow these specific books, so she was optimistic that they were still in the library. She was then, astonished, to find out from Pince that, apparently, the books she wanted (no more than the three) had been borrowed only yesterday by the same person. The name seemed familiar, as familiar as trying to recall the names of the cousins that you haven't seen in around a decade was, but she was too miffed to dwell on it. All that she knew was that she needed answers and someone had just stolen her chance!

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******A/N- Just a short little chapter, I hope you liked it! I'm really sorry that this story is dragging on and there hasn't been a lot of Dramione, but it_ IS_ my first Veela fic, and I'm not sure how to get to that point (I don't really want Draco just to go rampant in his Veela form and them coming to a random mutual understanding, like some do). That's why I need reviews to help me along, and I haven't really been getting a lot. I promise that if I do get help and suggestions (I'm willing to even team up) it'll improve! Like, I know I sound whiny and desperate about all this stuff, but it does mean quite a lot to me. **

**Who do you think it was that overheard Draco and Blaise's conversation? And do you think it's the same person as the one who borrowed the books that Hermione was wanting? What did you think of Hermione's dream?  
**  
**Please tell me in a review! I take criticism and I enjoy getting them! Favourite and follow as well please**!


	19. Dropping Hints, Then Obliviating

**A/N - Sorry this one took so long, I was doing things like homework, sorting out my guy best friend's troubles, having some of my own troubles and watching Iron Man 3! Anyone else seen it? Brilliant, right?**

**I was also kind of stuck on what to write for this one, so that's why it's almost sort of...pointless? Sorry 'bout that. Any ideas guys? I just want to push this story forward somehow.**

* * *

For a whole week after That Night, as she now referred to it as in her head, Hermione's dreams had continued featuring Draco, although they had been getting shorter and shorter since the first one until they had stopped altogether on the seventh day. Because of their frequency, she had gotten almost used to Dream Draco, especially since he was a whole lot nicer and his motives (if he ever had any) were easier to understand. However, she still didn't know why they were in the white infinity every time, or why there were always bittersweets and lemon verbena, _or _why he always looked the same - black wings with the tips still turning white albeit one every day, and black eyes (and what did the goddamn wings even symbolise if he wasn't a Fallen Angel?). Moreover, he always just _had _to set something on fire, as if he had a point to prove, and then demand her to put it out. Whenever she asked him about his wings or the flowers (on the few occasions that she actually questioned the strangeness of it all), he either laughed or mentioned the fact that the bittersweets means truth, so there must be 'something to learn from this', and the dream would end soon after.

Of course, if there was something to learn from it, Hermione wasn't going to pass up the opportunity just because it was seriously unusual. She visited the library every time she had a bit of free time since she first went there because of Dream Draco, to check whether, if by chance, all three of the books had been returned. To her great annoyance, they had not. Not even _one_ of them had been given back yet. Still, the thoughts played heavily on her mind and she tried to use the knowledge that she already had, to try to understand it a bit more. Actually, she was thinking of Dream Draco so much that when she was adding the facial features to Dorothy, the nose and mouth had to begin to look scarily like his and she had to drastically change it so that it was back to looking relatively like Lavender again. Well... looking as close to like Lavender as Lavender could look when she had freckles and ginger hair because Ron and Susan had chosen it as their portrait qualities, and with Blaise's olive green eyes that were covered by Harry's glasses as their qualities.

Once that facial problem had been solved, they had finished putting the finishing touches on Neville's grandmother's house and made the twister a bit wider, then stood back to admire their handiwork that had lasted two weeks. Dorothy was standing there, in front of the house that Neville had grown up in, her glasses perched perfectly on her nose and orange hair flowing gently down her back. She would've been looking delicate in her baby blue dress painted by Padma, but Draco had insisted that for his quality he wanted her to have the Dark Mark, so she was looking a bit sinister with it imprinted on her skin. A yellow pygmy puff was balanced on her shoulder, however, specifically put there by Hannah to make the portrait look happier after she saw Dorothy's arm; and Hogwarts: A History was placed under her the same arm by Hermione. They had submitted it to McGonagall that very morning; Draco and Blaise had offered to carry it the whole way there, themselves (Blaise only doing it because Draco was in an odd mood to try and impress Hermione, and perhaps the other girls, by carrying it all by himself). They had then carried it all the way back when it had been approved and praised by her after they had explained how it'd work, ("For our portrait we didn't want to use the other ways of entering a common room, so we worked together and created a _new _way. The Eighth Year student would say their whole name to Dorothy - for example I'd say Hermione Jean Granger – and then I'd perform my chosen, also known as our signature, spell. We'd tell our keeper the correct combination, of course, when we apply the potion once we get back. Then, if the name and spell combination is correct, she will grant the student access to the Common Room. The twister in the background will suck us into the common room, once Padma, Hannah, Susan and I perform the specific Charm on it; and once we duplicate it we'll have a copy inside the Common room, however in this one, you shall have to open the door to Dorothy's house and walk out." Is what she had informed her as the others stayed quiet in the background).

The door had been magically removed when they had arrived, and Draco and Blaise had left the portrait to be hung up by Ron and Harry, the former of which didn't exactly trust Draco to hang it up without lacing it with Curses. He was, however, trusted just enough for him to go get the potion so that they could varnish the portrait before hanging it up. Once that was done, Dorothy had already begun capturing the hearts of all the students, although Draco was a bit reluctant considering she looked a _lot _like a Weasley and he was suddenly aware of the fact that he seemed to lose control and show many traits outside the Common Room. They had then proceeded to introduce themselves individually and perform their spells to her in an alphabetical order that had been organised by Hermione, although it wasn't as if Draco could pay much attention to what she was telling him as she organised them with her being so close - he just went wherever she moved him.

By the end of it they all had their combination of which was individually memorised by Dorothy.

**Blaise Deon Zabini:** Reducto

**Draco Lucius Malfoy:** Orchideous (Though he only chose the spell just so he could give Hermione the white rose that had come out of it, which meant eternal love; innocence; heavenly; secrecy and silence. He had to hold onto her wrist though and use his Veela Charms in order for her to take it on the down side, but he was still satisfied.)

**Hannah Andrea Abbott:** Expelliarmus

**Hermione Jean Granger:** Alohomora (However, she was seriously considering using Oppugno on Malfoy just because of the blasted rose that was, for some reason, still in her hand, but she decided on something that had more memories).

**Harry James Potter:** Expecto Patronum

**Lavender Philomena Brown:** Accio

**Neville Matthew Longbottom:** Petrificus Totalus

**Padma Hasina Patil:** Silencio

**Ron Billius Weasley:** Winguardium Leviosa (Ron was considering a stupefy to aim at Malfoy for giving that stupid rose to Hermione. However, he wasn't jealous. Not at all. He'd been with Lavender for two months and he didn't care about Hermione all that time, not even now when they're not together anymore. Anyway, he decided to use Winguardium Leviosa because it being his most favourite memory. It had absolutely nothing to do with Hermione).

**Susan Alyssa Bones:** Stupefy

After that, they all went their separate ways, though four specific wizards and a witch's destinations were interlinked. Hermione was on her way to the library again, praying to every God she knew – God, Allah, Brahma and many others – that the books would _finally _be there. Surely, they weren't that big, there couldn't be that much on Nymphs, Sirens and Veelas, Hermione thought, they were secretive creatures; and how many Magical Creatures are actually native to Bulgaria and how much can you write about each one? Anyway, she was being followed by Draco and Blaise who were curious to see where she was going that was so urgent without Potter or Weasley. Well, actually, they more or less knew that she was going to the library seeing as Draco experience the dreams too, though he wasn't in control of himself during them, he could only watch as they spoke and 'he' asked her where you go when you want to learn something. He'd followed a couple of times to the library before now, but she had obviously not managed to find the thing that she was looking for, whatever it was. They had never gone into the library with her - that might be a bit suspicious. Back to the point, Malfoy and Zabini were being followed by Harry and Ron who thought it was overly suspicious that A) Hermione was off disappearing somewhere without them every time she wasn't in the middle of doing something. In addition, there was the fact that, B) Malfoy and Zabini, after whispering to themselves and watching Hermione leave, started glancing around at everyone before swaggering after her. If that wasn't a bit dodgy, then they weren't sure what was. They only followed to stop whatever Zabini and Malfoy had planned to do to the Gryffindor Princess.

**XXXXXXXXX**

Yesterday evening he handed two of the books on Magical Creatures back, having finished taking all the notes that he thought that he would need to know, down. He decided to start with the thickest books first, because they would've taken longer to get through, then he'd look at the thinnest one on Nymphs, Sirens and Veelas next. At this moment, he was quite sure that he was pretty well informed on Veelas and now, just considering all his knowledge, he could've guessed that Malfoy was something along the lines of a Veela. Anyway, he was quite close to Fleur Weasley nee Delacour, ever since she became rather fond of his First Year self during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, so if he ever wanted more information or his questions on Veela's answered, he knew that he could ask her. The plan now was to figure out what he was going to do with everything that he knew, everything that he'd found out. Such as, he now knew what Zabini and Malfoy were going on about when they were talking about saving a life, they were talking about saving Malfoy's; and obviously he now knew that the wings were a Veela trait.

Thinking about it, he could use his traits to reveal him to everyone. If angry enough, his wings would come out. However, what would anger Draco Malfoy? He was a Slytherin, they always kept a poker face and hardly ever got angry about anything, maybe unless you doubt their blood purity, but still. That was when a light bulb went off; he smiled.

He was always known for his fast thinking.

What could possibly anger a Veela more than someone else doing _anything _to his or her Mate?

It was a good thing that he knew Granger from the DA...

**XXXXXXXXX**

"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed, as Madam Pince handed her two heavy tomes entitled 'Magical Creatures Native To Bulgaria', and 'An A-Z Encyclopaedia of Magical Creatures From Europe'. They'd finally come back, although she was still missing the one on Siren's, Nymphs and Veela's, but she preferred not to dwell on the downside of it. After Hermione thanked Madam Pince profusely for reserving the books for her, she turned to leave the library with the books tucked safely into her bag, but she was unexpectedly called back.

"Miss Granger! Miss Granger, there's actually another one for you," Pince called. Hermione stopped walking straight away, and walked back to her desk. She was confused as to what other book it could be, as she hadn't asked for anything else to be reserved, but she wanted to see what it could be anyway. "Here," she said, handing her a thinner book. Looking at the navy cover, she saw that it was rather vaguely entitled 'Dreams'. She smiled brightly, glad that Pince had remembered from her visit last week and thanked her again while putting the book in her bag with the others. Perhaps now, she could figure out why Malfoy was so suddenly appearing in her dreams, and then disappearing all at one. She managed to leave the library this time without being called back.

When she stepped out however, she immediately became suspicious to see a shock of white hair quickly disappear behind a corridor and suddenly the silence was filled with whispers. She couldn't hear what was being said though because they were too far away, but she could tell that the voices were _both_ male. Nevertheless, what was _Malfoy_ doing here in the first place? Following her? She was more than sure that he had better things to be doing than lurking around the library and not actually going into it. _Don't be stupid Hermione; _she thought to herself, _he has every right to be here. He hasn't necessarily _followed _you here. You're letting him make you paranoid. _Her head quickly whipped around when she saw movement out the corner of her eye, and she looked in the opposite direction where she saw Malfoy's head, to see a mop of orange hair instead. _How odd_, she thought, her brows furrowing in confusion. Ron would never come towards the library if he could help it, it reminded him too much of school – especially on a weekend. She would've thought he'd be in Hogsmeade with Harry, not in the castle...

So what way did she go? Right towards Malfoy, or left towards Ron? It wasn't as if she didn't want to _see_ Ron, it was just that she'd rather just head back to her room and spend the next couple of hours reading her books, instead of being caught up in conversation with him. From the size of them, it looked like they'd take a while for her to get through, no matter how fast she was at reading. It seemed then that going right was the best option; it wasn't as if Malfoy would talk to her. She was staying out of his life now, as he had said (although it wasn't as if he was staying out of hers since he gave her that rose a few hours ago. He was just trying to irritate her), so he shouldn't go mental. Sighing, she turned to walk up the corridor, the whispers getting clearer and louder as she went, though she could only still make out certain words (like 'don't', 'dare', 'stop', 'regret') because they were talking so quietly. She did hear the words Potter and Weasley come into the conversation, which piqued her interest. So did they know Harry and Ron were at the other side? Or was it just coincidence that their names were mentioned?

**XXXXXXXXX**

"Don't you dare Malfoy!" Blaise hissed, worried that nothing was going to go right, as had been happening quite a lot for his friend. "Not when you know that her friends are at the other end."

"Try and stop me Blaise," Draco said, turning around and beginning to walk around the corner. "They followed us here, so it's their fault if they see anything."

"And we followed Granger here, there's no difference. Trust me Draco, you do that and you'll regret it." Draco stopped before the corner of the wall that lead to the library, and slowly turned back around to face Blaise.

"I thought you wanted me to get along with her? Well, communication is a very big factor in that. I won't regret it, I promise you that; just let me have some fun before I die. If you don't want to be here or are going to keep trying to stop me, then you can leave. Go see Lovegood or something."

"Since you're probably going to end up in the Hospital Wing by the end of it and I doubt I'll be let in or whether you're still going to be conscious, I'm just going to say it now. I told you so Malfoy, I told you so." With that, Blaise turned and walked the opposite way out of the corridor, heading the Ravenclaw Common Room. Maybe Lovegood could get him to understand that what he's doing is wrong.

**XXXXXXXXX**

Before she could hear anything else from the two of them, Malfoy swaggered out, leaned cockily on the wall, facing her with a smirk on his face, making Hermione pause, and begin to regret her decision of walking this way.

"Well, well, well Granger," he drawled. Hermione rolled her eyes at the nuisance and stopped walking just to get this whole thing over with; no doubt, he would've stopped her if she kept on walking anyway. "Find anything...interesting in the library? I hope you haven't forgotten our little meeting the other day."

Ah, so that was why he was there. He _had _followed her, just to make sure that she wasn't interfering again.

"Nothing you need to worry about Malfoy," she said simply, brushing past him. He reached out his arm and placed a firm grip on her should, making her turn round to face him.

"Can I have a look?" He asked, his eyes burning into hers.

"No," she repeated, her voice as firm as his grip, and tried to walk away again. She was only pulled back again so roughly that she almost stumbled into his chest, but his hand stopped her.

"I _said _Hermione, can I have a look?" He locked eyes with her, still fascinated with the way that her eyes change to black and how all emotion left her face till all was left was a relaxed expression. He could watch it happen for hours on end. "Please," he whispered, squeezing her arm and holding out his other hand for her to place the books in. She complied easily, and Draco slid his hand down her back so that it was wrapped around her waist to make it easier for her to move. He wanted to know whether she'd been in the library to find anything on Veela's, if she was further ahead in her research than Draco had thought, or for a book on dreams because of the ones that they'd both been experiencing. It wasn't because he wanted to attack her again to make her stop investigating, like she probably thought he wanted to do, oh no. He had agreed with Blaise to let her discover it herself, he just needed to check what she had, and maybe he could even bookmark a page for her that could lead her to the answer. He found interest in playing with a loose thread on the hem of her jumper, but he was brought out of his reverie by the increased volume of Potter and Weasley's whispering. He looked down the corridor to see their shadows moving and a red head emerge from the wall followed by a mop of messy black hair. He watched them storm up to him, arguing the entire way between themselves. He silently told Hermione to stop pulling the books out of her bag, and to place the one that was already out back.

Draco smirked, preparing himself for Weasley's jealous rage (though Draco hated it more than anything, it was easy to tell that the Weasel still had feelings for her) and Potter's protectiveness. He pulled Hermione closer to his side, grinning, and called to the mockingly, "I thought I heard someone following us. What brings you here, don't trust me with your Princess?" Hermione's face was pulled into a frown with her eyebrows drawn together, feeling Draco's emotions at their intrusion.

Neither answered him verbally, but Ron strode right up to him, wand drawn, and grabbed his robes, pulling him away from Hermione and throwing him up against the wall. Immediately from the loss of contact, Hermione went back to her usual state of mind. After the initial confusion passed and she remembered what had happened, she brushed Harry off who was asking her loads of questions about what Malfoy was doing and, more importantly, what was she doing with him) and marched right up to Malfoy who was having some sort of shouting match with Ron.

**XXXXXXXXX**

"None of your business," Draco hissed, his hands literally _burning _to get a hold of his stupid throat and his eyes blackening with protectiveness and anger.

"What do you think you're doing with her?" Ron shouted.

"Why does every blasted Gryffindor care what I do? I'll tell you this though, there is no way that I'm going to get you to leave me alone in the same way I did with Granger."

"And what way was that Malfoy? I swear if you did anything to hurt-"

"What makes you think that I'd ever do that?"

Ron swung a punch at Draco's face with the hand that wasn't digging his wand into his throat, but with supernatural speed, Draco reached up and caught his hand before it made contact with his face. Ron struggled against the iron hold, his face turning even redder at the exertion, and he cried out in pain as Draco's hands started to burn him. He twisted the ginger's arm, close to breaking it, and pushed back to through him off.

"If I were you, I'd never try that again. I promise that I am so much stronger than you'll ever know," he growled, stalking towards Ron, who was nursing his hand, in an intimidating manner.

"Why? Because you've gone through so much in your pathetic Death-" Ron had begun to snap, before Hermione shoved him none too gently out the way so that she was facing Malfoy. He relaxed slightly in her presence and smirked slightly as Ron, as regaining his posture, and Harry flanked her sides.

"Stop doing that to me!" She shouted, sounding flustered.

A look of confusion passed over his face, "Stop doing what?"

"Stop-Stop making me do things! Like earlier with your rose, you _made _me take it! You just almost made me give you something else-"

"He did what?" Harry growled, turning red, while Draco was grinning at the implications. He _definitely _wanted her to give him _that, _but when that happens he, without a doubt, wanted that to be of her own free will; for now, kissing would be as far as he would go.

"Oh Merlin, no, no not like that!" Hermione spoke quickly, sounding horrified.

"Well then what was it?" Harry asked, sounding a bit calmer. "Because it sure seemed like he was getting cosy with you..."

"Nothing like-" She started saying before she was cut off by Draco warning her not to mention it with a low voice. She paused long enough, still fuming, for Draco to speak. He would've interjected something earlier, but whilst they were speaking amongst themselves, he was busy formulating a plan. What would be the next stage in his plan to get closer to Granger be? Well, he couldn't have one until he got rid of her bodyguards. And how did he plan to do that? Obviously, he needed damage the Golden Trio's relationship; he needed them to think that she was lying about him making her do things. He needed them to think that she was doing it all of her own free will and once that was done, it would also put them off his case as well so they would not try to understand how he was doing it. Once they had gone off Granger a bit, it'd leave her alone for most of the time, and that would be when Mr Draco Malfoy could sweep in (always knowing exactly where she was because of the bracelet) and start talking to her. It'd be perfect. He could always, on the odd occasions, kiss her again using the Charms, and after a while she'd be so used to it, that she'd start to grave his touch.

Soon, she'd be his.

"It doesn't matter anyway, it's not like you were under the Imperius, now was it Granger? I have no doubt that you'd be able to throw that off, so obviously what other way could there be to control you?" He drawled. There was a pause as they thought about it, but just as Ron had opened his mouth to say something, Draco spoke first, "There is none. Not even any Dark Magic."

"But there is a way!" Hermione protested, refusing to accept his statement. "Whenever you touch me, I lose all thoughts-"

"I do believe that happens to most girls here Granger, I always knew you weren't any different. Deep down you like me," his voice dropped to a whisper towards the end. Harry and Ron gave her disbelieving looks, as if they'd never thought they'd see the day when Hermione Granger ever said that to Draco Malfoy. Maybe what they had seen – Malfoy with his arm wrapped around Hermione – was exactly how it seemed. He stepped closer to them; Harry and Ron, though looking a bit sceptical drew their wands, and slightly raised them in his direction. Draco stretched out his hand and blindly reached for hers; keeping is eyes trained on Hermione, occasionally shifting to look at Potter and Weasley. He didn't grasp her hand because he was still keeping himself quite a while away from the Trio, but his index finger was lightly brushing her hand. Weasley of course noticed this, her hand being the closest to where he was and scoffed.

"As if she'd ever like you, a ferret. She didn't want your flower and there's no way that she'd ever-" Ron started saying, purposely leaving out the fact that they were so close minutes ago, but stopped himself when Hermione laced her fingers with Draco's hand, stepping forward a giving him a kiss on the cheek. Draco would've had her kiss him on the lips, but that was for a time when he could afford to lose himself in Hermione _and _for a time when they were alone. Both boys were deeply in shock at the sudden change in character from Hermione, and while Ron was just gaping like a fish, Harry was silently contemplating what had happened.

Was Hermione right; was there another way to control someone? Surely, she wouldn't have done it herself. She was so sure that it wasn't her doing it and Harry so desperately wanted to believe her. However, if there was another way, they would've been taught how to use it or how to block it, wouldn't have they? Malfoy didn't have his wand out anyway, so it couldn't have been a spell – Harry highly doubted that he could do wandless magic, especially since even Hermione wasn't the best at it. _Think Harry, think! _He repeated to himself in his head. _Hermione is the Brightest Witch of Her Age, she obviously knows if she's being fooled or not! _Then, a few seconds later, Harry had a light bulb moment. Hermione said that it happened every time he touched her. He was touching her right now! And earlier, once Malfoy was away from her, she seemed confused about what had just happened! _Merlin_, Hermione got it!

"I thought you did Granger," Draco said smugly. "Now, what were you saying Weasel?" Ron started to turn red, matching the colour of his hair, from embarrassment, anger, jealousy – everything. Harry, however, approached Draco and Hermione calmly, raising his wand and poking it back in his throat. He chuckled lowly, and Hermione smirked.

"Problem Potter?" He asked, eyebrows rising.

"Let go of Hermione," Harry said simply. This caused Draco to laugh again, pulling Hermione closer to him.

"You don't actually believe her, do you Potter?" His eyes challenged Harry to say otherwise. Ron, seeing where Harry was going with this, walked up to join Harry, his wand pointing at Draco. He was being suspicious; clearly, he was doing something if he didn't want to let go of Hermione. It made Ron feel a bit stupid for ever doubting her.

"Of course I do, it's Hermione. She's the brightest witch I've ever met." Harry replied levelly. "Now let her go; if she's wrong then you wouldn't have a problem doing it."

Draco didn't move, nor did anyone say anything, so what followed was a very pregnant silence.

"_Stupefy!" _Ron shouted, and as quick as he could, Draco drew out his wand and cast a defensive charm, though he didn't have enough time to construct a strong one, so the force of the spell caused him to stumble back a bit.

Draco growled, his hands heating up again because of the Weasel, but he forced himself to calm down. He knew how he needed to handle it.

"Leave him alone!" Hermione ordered her so-called friends, standing in front Draco with her wand pointing at them. They suddenly stopped, the words of another spell dying on their lips. Draco smiled smugly, loving their reactions and pulled her in front of him, hands on her hips as he sniffed her hair as a little...reward for controlling her so perfectly. Now that Ron and Harry were now focusing more on Hermione, they noticed the colour of her eyes. They were black. Pure black. In addition, Ron remembered seeing Draco in the Hospital Wing with black eyes and looking now, they were black again, matching Hermione's. The fact that something wasn't right was in the front of their minds, but they couldn't put a finger on what the explanation could be. Only that whatever was happening was affecting the both of them.

"Malfoy," Harry growled.

"Why did you follow me and Blaise here?" Draco asked again. "She didn't tell you...anything, did she?" He asked them, staring at each one imploringly.

They didn't answer, though they were curious as to what he was talking about. What did Hermione know?

"I'll just ask her then," he said, unfazed by their silence. He repeated the question, as he said he would, to which she replied with, with a simple, 'no.' Draco smiled, pleased, but started to frown as he saw Harry prepare to throw another spell.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Do you really think that even in this state she's just going to stand there and let you attack me? No, no it doesn't work like that. If it means taking the spell for me or attacking you, she'll do it." His face turned mocking in a matter of seconds. "I'm untouchable."

Seconds later, Blaise and Luna showed up at the end of the corridor. Blaise's shoulders slumped in disappointment. He had hoped that he wouldn't have done this. There was no way for them to separate them now. Draco probably knew that they were here now, from his hearing and smell, but thank Merlin he wasn't paying any attention to them. It was a good thing that Potter and Weasley hadn't noticed them yet, they could just get rid of them, and then Draco could let go of Hermione, if they were the reason he was doing it in the first place. He told this to Luna who nodded her head in agreement, taking out her wand. In unplanned synchronisation, two stupefy's were shot (non-verbally), one at Ron and the other at Harry. Unprepared for the attack, they both dropped to the floor, unconscious. Luna ran over to them daintily, checking that they were both uninjured (they _had_ hit a stone floor without any cushioning, after all), while Blaise went over to Malfoy.

"Perhaps not the Hospital Wing, but how much were you planning on telling them?" Blaise said questioningly, raising an eyebrow.

Draco frowned, remembering what he'd been telling them, continually controlling Hermione, and the fact that they'd discovered it. Maybe he hadn't actually handled it as well as he thought he did or as well as he thought he was going to. "Shut up Blaise," he muttered.

Blaise hummed. "I told you so," he said a little too happy for Draco's tastes. "Anyway, Lovegood and I have agreed, since hearing what you last told them about you being untouchable, that it'd probably be a good idea to obliviate them. Especially since we could only imagine what had happened before."

Draco nodded absent-mindedly and Blaise turned around to tell Luna that it was approved – not that they had expected him to say otherwise. Draco turned around to face Hermione who was smiling at him, but Draco was troubled. It wouldn't do for her to remember her accusation ('A correct accusation!' he imagined her saying, a smile beginning to play on his lips), or anything from today.

**XXXXXXXXX**

He stood up from his place on the floor, pulling Hermione up with him who was previously tucked into his side with her head resting on his shoulder. He'd just read the book on dreams, and dog-eared the appropriate pages, as well as checking her other books, which he'd found to his surprise, the exact ones he had read. The pages he marked weren't on Veela's; of course, that information would be in a book on Magical Creatures. The pages he marked would probably lead her astray, though he hadn't chosen them for that reason. He'd chosen them because maybe then, she'd confront him about it and he'd be able to get another meeting out of her - one to replace this one.

Yes, a meeting to replace this one. Blaise and Luna had left around an hour earlier, erasing their memories up until the moment when Draco had walked out from behind the wall, and Draco had stayed with Hermione looking through the book and deciding whether he should erase her memories too. It was only towards the end of the book that he had come to the conclusion that he needed to get rid of all of her memories from hours ago, maybe not all either, only the important ones.

He placed the books back into her bag and slung it over his shoulder because it seemed like it'd be heavy for her to carry. As they made their way back to the hall before the Eighth Year Common Room, hand in hand, Draco paid extra attention to the smells and sounds all around him, so that he could tell if he was about to run into someone. Usually, he would've gone all the way, until he was in front of the entrance to the common room, but now he couldn't risk it because of Dorothy. He didn't know whether she was still in her portrait or not, but it was still a risk as she was the one that would see each of the Eighth Years most often. He couldn't care less about the other portraits seeing them; it was just Dorothy he was worried about. There was almost something untrustworthy about the portrait, though Draco just told himself that he was being stupid about being paranoid over a picture. He gave her bag back when they got to their destination, let go of her, then wiped all her memories up until the time before Harry and Ron emerged from the other side of the corridor.

* * *

**A/N- So we have a little bit more information on the person who knows Draco's secret. Congratulations to all those that correctly guessed that he was the same person who borrowed the books that Hermione needed!**

**REVIEW, FAVOURITE AND FOLLOW PLEASE! I'd like to get to 100 reviews by the 20th chapter. High hopes I know...but a girl can dream :)**


	20. Time To Take Things Into My Own Hands

**A/N- So, I was just checking over my plan for FHIIFM and changing some stuff, when I came across the plan for the portrait entrance, and I only just realised that I labelled it as "How each of them gain entrance to the magic show." I spent a good couple of minutes in hysterics over that...**

**Like, why a magic show?! I just don't understand...*shakes head***

**Anyway, I have a few apologies! Sorry if I switch between 1st and 3rd person P.O.V without realising because I don't mean to confuse you guys with it - I just don't know that I'm doing it. And an extra BIG sorry for taking 3 weeks to update but I was stuck with ideas and busy and all of that other crap...**

**ANYWAY! This chapter we get to see many, many things - such as the identity of the mystery person! **

* * *

He stood outside the Eight Year common room, gazing at Dorothy as she petted her Pygmy Puff. He'd been standing there for a while now, knowing that there'd be no hope of him entering once he'd questioned her on how one was supposed to enter this particular common room. No one had come out yet. He guessed that was reasonable, since it was still fairly early in the morning and it was the weekend anyway, but he was up because he believed that one good thing happened before the sun was in the middle of the sky.

Before he left the common room that morning, Luna had warned him that his plan to enter the Eight Years domain was absolutely ludicrous – she'd only been in there once and there was only one person that knew, seeing as they were the one that let her in. However, he didn't care.

This was important.

He'd spent two weeks going over this plan in his head, checking out more books on Veelas from the library (which really wasn't that suspicious since most people knew he'd taken Care of Magical Creatures and he had also returned his last book on Veela's, Nymphs and Siren's), and practicing certain Charms that would allow him not to be burnt by Malfoy's hands unlike he almost was last time. He had also written to Fleur Weasley, asking vaguely about certain things that would anger a Veela - purely for research purposes, he had told her when she asked what all this information was for, hoping that he wasn't hoping to cause any form of trouble with a Veela.

He was ready.

So ready that the pounced on Lavender Brown as soon as she exited the common room and started firing questions at her.

"Is anyone else awake?"

"Is Hermione Granger up?"

"What about Draco Malfoy?"

"Do you think you could send them out to me if they are?"

"Actually, could you let me enter the common room, that'd be easiest?" He said.

She gave him a really flustered look, not knowing which question to focus on they came out so fast. Eventually, she just screamed for him to stop.

And he did, looking at her eagerly.

"Who are you anyway?" She asked, eyebrows drawing together, her mind being quite slow as she had only just woken up and wasn't prepared at all for this verbal attack. "You look familiar..."

"Doesn't matter," he waved her off quickly, making Lavender look at him suspiciously. "Can you answer my questions?"

"Umm..." She stuttered, looking around with her eyes for some form of distraction or escape from the good-looking boy (which was totally out of character of her, but she was looking for ways to get back together with Ron and using another guy to get him jealous wouldn't work. He'd end up thinking that she was completely over him). "I don't know? If you're looking for Hermione you should check-"

"-the library? I know. I already have, she's not there."

He waited for Lavender to give him a reply of some form, but after a few minutes, he knew that by asking her, he wouldn't get anywhere. He sighed and said thank you, letting her go gratefully on her way. Maybe he'd just have to sit there until she did exit.

It was only when the clicks of Lavender's heels had finally died away into silence, did Dorothy look up from her Pygmy Puff and stare at him curiously. "You want to know about Draco Lucius Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger?" Dorothy asked, wiping her glasses on the hem of her dress.

He started at the sudden nonchalant voice that suddenly filled the hall, but he only had to look up to remember that there was one portrait in this section of the castle and he really should've remembered her voice from earlier. While she was still cleaning her glasses, he caught a glimpse of a Dark Mark on her arm for the first time since he saw her. No doubt, he thought, that it was Malfoy's _humorous _idea. "Yes," he nodded. "I do. Do you know if they're awake?"

"I can check if you like?"

"Please." And with that said, she turned around and walked towards the house in the background. Only a few seconds later she returned, with a smile that said that she bared good news.

"Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger are indeed awake, and so is Mr Zabini. They seem to be getting on quite well," she informed him.

"Great," he sighed. He sat down on the ground and made himself comfortable. They were going to be probably in there for a while if they were all together. But it'd be worth it, he had to keep reminding himself.

It'd be worth it to get revenge on Draco Malfoy.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Hermione was sat on the sofa (not long after Lavender had left), reading the book on dreams.

She had finished the entire encyclopaedia in three days – record time for a book that had just a bit over 2000 pages of detailed information – but she left that down to the fact that she had nothing else but read this book and squeeze in enough time for her to write her essays. Eating and sleeping was something that she had done infrequently, much to the annoyance of Ron and Harry (Draco too, but she didn't know that he was watching her). That book had given her next to no insight about why Malfoy was in her dreams and why he looked as he did in them, what was even more hindering was that some imbecile had ripped the top half of the only page on Veela's out. She had sorely hoped that it hadn't been Malfoy who had done it – and if it was, that was extraordinarily suspicious – but without any evidence, she had no reason to think it; nor did she want it to be the person whom she was waiting on for a long time to receive the book. Either way, Hermione had stopped after that book on her research into Bulgarian creatures and had instead gone for the book on dreams, hoping that that would provide her with more insight.

Though the book was quite thin, the writing was tiny so it took up fewer pages. She had also found that this book had had a dog-eared page on the beginning of a chapter entitled "Invasion des rêves" (as this book was written by a Frenchman), or "Invasion of dreams". Whoever had been borrowing the book before her must've done it, she figured, and forgot to unmark the page, but her eyes had begun to skim the first couple of lines of it and her curiosity had immediately sucked her in.

This was something that would provide her with answers.

She had finished the whole chapter within four days, the size 9 font that covered the 500 or so pages with the occasional words that were in French, which she had to look up, had slowed her progress a bit.

Nevertheless, the important thing was that she had finished, and now she had an idea of what Malfoy was doing to her.

See, in the book, "Invasion des rêves" is described as an ancient magic that was used at its most before the First Wizarding War by quite a few people that had honest intentions and also by those who did not, but during the Wizarding War it was mostly used by the Death Eaters in a form unphysical torture. They used it to gain information from their prisoners by filling their dreams with nightmares until it got to the point that they were unable to sleep and went crazy from it.

To put it in short, it is an ancient magic that allows anyone to enter another's dreams and have a part in them. They'd be able to control the dream and that included where it was set, what was in it, what everyone looked like, what happened in it and when it ended. This, Hermione figured, was why she was always in a place that she had never been to before; why Malfoy was always there and knowing everything about the place. Why he looked like he did and why he did what he did, as if there was some strange reason to it.

She had constantly re-read the section since the day that she had finished it. She tried to work out if there was a way to make it stop (there wasn't) or if it was possible for someone to create daydreams in her mind too, in which case would explain her random zoning out during the day and the almost memory-like thoughts she had of Malfoy kissing her.

She had just finished the chapter for the fourth time and was planning what sort of torture Malfoy would hate the most so that she could administer it to him, when the devil had come strolling down the stairs along with Blaise.

She stood up quickly and spun round to face him and he locked eyes with her and strolled across the room to the large table that they sometimes ate breakfast, lunch or dinner on. Draco just raised an eyebrow and smirked at her as she glared at him, but she didn't say anything. Feeling in a rather good mood, Draco said in an amused manner, "sit down Granger; I may be infamous, but I'm not royalty."

She just glared harder at him. "Shut up Malfoy," she snapped. She was about to start arguing with him about his overly arrogant nature and how much she _hated _it (though he wasn't trying to be so insufferable this morning), but he had opened his mouth before her.

He felt like it was going to be a good day and he wasn't going to let something so stupid like his Mate was being extremely moody today damper his spirits. Still keeping the amused look on his face he said, "What's wrong Granger? Are you moody because you haven't had anything to eat yet or because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning? If it's the former it'll be easy to fix; we were just about to get the House Elves to bring us something."

"Could be her time of the month," Blaise whispered under his breath. Unfortunately, though, Hermione and Draco both heard him and fixed him with glares so malicious that it would've been enough to make a Hungarian Horntail quiver in fear. Hermione was so offended by Blaise's statement that it made her forget about all the wrongs that Draco had done – _almost_. Draco, however, was angry that Blaise would insinuate such a thing about his Mate, never mind that he couldn't really feel the Veela side of him in the common room, he was angry on his own behalf. He was sure as hell that Blaise should be glad that he wasn't able to kill him in that instant.

"It _could _be a damn good idea if you shut your mouth Zabini," Hermione retorted. Draco internally smirked. He couldn't have put it better himself. "And _you," _she shrilled, turning to Draco, "how dare you make those House Elves do more work when you two could go down to the Hall like everybody else! They shouldn't even be employed!"

"Granger, really, they _enjoy _working. What else are they supposed to do? They could hardly form their own Quidditch team – they're too scared for that," Draco drawled. She should understand that the Elves didn't want to be free by now; he had understood it since he was a boy. They had always been happy to do whatever his family wanted, whenever they wanted. They had been severely distressed when his mother had tried to free some of them after the War, so upset that she had stopped trying and just allowed them to work as they had always done. They didn't want proper clothes; they didn't want wages; they didn't want holidays. Nothing. The quicker Hermione understood it, the calmer Draco would feel when Hermione became his wife, knowing that she wouldn't be constantly trying to free them and just let them serve them.

"That's because they don't know how to do anything else!"

At this, Draco scoffed. "They don't want to do anything else! Trust me Granger; my mother has tried. The Elves were upset for _weeks_ thinking that they had done something to disgrace us, which was why we wanted to give them something that they saw as a punishment."

"So your Elves still aren't free?"

"They don't want to be," he said, slowly getting frustrated with her. "Merlin, weren't you listening to what I just said?"

"Well did you tell them that they'd be able to get their own money-"

"-to use however they wanted? Yes. We did. They still didn't want it. Even denied new clothes – thought that we were trying to get rid of them." That had silenced her for a few seconds, but Draco saw that she was about to speak up again, no doubt to fire more questions and reasons for their freedom at him again, and he held up his hand to stop her. "Hermione Granger, I am merely inviting you to have breakfast with us. You don't have to if you feel so strongly against the work of House Elves; I will try to be not too offended if you decline."

She was still angry with him. Extremely angry. For overusing the House Elves and for invading her dreams, but this had been the longest that either of them had gone without insulting the other when the situation didn't call for them to be civil, and he was trying to be polite by asking her – even if he did hide some arrogance in the remark. And, grudgingly, she did have to admit that she had to suppress a small smirk, though she wasn't too sure why. Maybe all the dream invading and having almost-pleasant conversions with Dream Draco that she had had recently was slowly pushing her around the bend, or maybe - now that she knew – there was a little bit of hope that Draco could be as pleasant in real life.

Besides, she _was _really hungry.

She moved over to the table then, much to the amusement of the two boys, but didn't sit near them, instead going as far away as possible from them. Draco grinned at her, his eyes sparkling and said, "Good, now let's see if we can lift that mood. We all deserve to be treated once in a while after all."

Blaise didn't say nothing since his remark from earlier and still said nothing now, knowing that Draco was still probably upset with him and would at least appreciate it if Blaise gave them their own moments, but stayed with him so that it wouldn't get out of control.

Draco snapped his fingers only seconds after he spoke, not giving Hermione an opportunity to change her mind about both the Elf and the breakfast. Immediately an Elf popped into the room by Malfoy and he quickly ordered the Elf (who he, much to his disappointment, recognised as Dot) to bring them enough food for the three of them – as well as three goblets of Pumpkin Juice and a jar of it too - however much she thought it would be, from the Great Hall. Once the orders were done, the Elf vanished again. After that, at least 10 minutes of silence fell between them all as Dot probably tried to fit as much as she could in her arms, before Draco suddenly couldn't handle it anymore and forced himself to make conversation with his Mate.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

DRACO'S P.O.V

Okay, so since I've started taking quite a lot of advantage of Hermione using the Veela Charms, I've known that there would have to be a time that I needed to stop and deal with the problem head on without any of the magical help – but once I started, I couldn't stop.

I'm more than sure that this is not the first time that I've referred to Hermione as a drug. One that I'm addicted to.

I'd probably needed to attend a rehab meeting of sociopathic Veela's to get over it and move forward.

And, on the morning of my 233rd day left of living, I realised that I was never going to get that, because there probably wasn't one that existed and I doubt that it ever would. I rolled out of bed on that Sunday and mentally made promises to myself like a smoker who wanted to quit on his own will power.

I was going to quit Hermione Granger on my own strength.

Well, not quit her _completely_, I still kept to my promise to Blaise to try for a month and that time wasn't over yet. Thankfully. I had decided that I was going to quit fooling around and just focus on acting civil to her. Not that she'd buy it straight away, I knew that trust from her wouldn't come so quickly (especially after she reads the passage in her book about dreams) but perseverance was something that many people believed in, and I guess that it was something that I should try.

Being civil to her started a week later, on the morning of my 226th day of what was left of my life. What? Okay fine. I didn't quit her straight away; going cold turkey wasn't something that could handle well. During the week, I had weaned myself off her and now I was perfectly able to go about my life without craving her too much.

Therefore, today was when the civility began.

Though I don't think I could've chosen a worse day to begin my new life as she was in the worst of moods. She glared at me as if it was my fault that I was still alive or had even been born. For one, she shouldn't be hateful towards my existence. I thought every girl dreamed of a soul mate? She should be happy that she got one, otherwise she'd be stuck with someone so I'll suited to her like Weasley who probably thought that he had only to ask and Hermione would say yes to marriage.

I thought that his joke to her would've put her glare to rest for a bit, but it had only intensified. I hadn't done anything to her in ages, well...anything that she would be angry about. With great restraint, I made sure that my face didn't turn into a sneer and I didn't allow the snarky response to escape my lips.

Being civil to her was a very hard job to do, but I could only hope that it would get easier with practice.

I didn't however expect one of her tirades on House-Elves to happen, but then again, I didn't expect Blaise to an indignant prick – more to the point, I expected that he was at least able to _whisper _if he truly couldn't hold his comment in. I was just about to snap back at him not to be so thickheaded and insensitive – even _I _wouldn't have said that, but then again I was a changed person towards her, maybe I'd say it to someone else – but The Great Hermione Granger had already done it.

It gave me some pride to know that she wasn't one of those kinds of girls that wouldn't stand up for themselves or would let a man fight their battles for themselves. Hermione didn't take anyone's shit. She was independent.

Looking in hindsight, I really shouldn't have been sucked into her "Free the House-Elves!" protest, but I had experience with trying to free them, so I thought that I'd stand well against her. However, I didn't realise that s_he _had experience when being told that they genuinely _liked _working. The debate only seemed to frazzle her more, but when I put in the word about my own Elves, she looked at me with a new emotion. However, whatever it was, I couldn't recognise it.

Either way, I had to change the topic before we were way too carried away with the topic and never ended up having breakfast like me and Blaise had originally planned. Sure, I had invited her to sit with us, but I didn't actually expect her to take up our offer no matter how hopeful I had been when asking it. Still, my hopes weren't too shot down even if she did choose the place furthest away from us. I had ordered something general for all of us, not knowing her particular tastes yet, so there wasn't something that could go wrong with that.

The silence, however, was unbearable. It was obvious that Blaise had taken Hermione's order of staying silent and wouldn't be speaking until after she had left, but Granger could've at least said thank you and let a conversation brew from that. I didn't _have _to invite her, nor did I leave her no choice but join us.

Before I could stop it, the words, "I saw you were reading as we came down. What was it?" barrelled out of my mouth.

I tried to resist frowning but that just made my face twist into a grimace. She probably thought now that I was monitoring her...again. But it wasn't like that! Well, maybe it was...in a way. I'm not looking to argue with her over what she was reading, but I just wanted to know if she had finished all the books that she had borrowed from the library two weeks ago. I wanted to know whether she was actually angry from the lack of sleep (which, this time, I had nothing to do with. She must've had a bad night herself because the dreams from last week had stopped since 2 days ago), from lack of food or because she discovered something about me.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "None of your business," she snapped.

"Well, if you won't say I could always go and have a look myself," I said, rising slowly from my seat so that she knew it wasn't an empty threat.

"I think that's invading my privacy Malfoy," she hissed.

"Something you don't want me to know?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, sitting back down.

"Don't act as if you don't keep secrets from me,"

"And this breakfast was going so well," Blaise commented dryly, before being silenced once again by our glares.

There was a tense pause as both of us thought about what our responses could be. It was only temporarily broken when Dot popped back into the room with our meal. She delayed her return by a few seconds by looking at Hermione with curiosity, the girl that I was staring at, and trying to work out if this was the girl that is destined for my future. I looked back to the Elf indicating that she should leave and with a question in her eyes, she popped back out of the room. Everyone served themselves then, Hermione having to walk over to where the food was down by me and Blaise to fill her plate before returning back to where she was.

I ate some toast before gazing back at her, who was looking like she regretted joining us. "Okay. Fine," I said, gaining her attention. "I admit that there would be no reason for us to know each other, but for this case only, how about a secret for a secret? You tell me about the book and I'll tell you something." I rested my chin on the knuckles of my hand.

"No, I won't play your pathetic little games," she said firmly, stabbing some of her food with her knife and fork.

"Okay, I'll go first. It might interest-" I started, not caring that she said she wouldn't play. I was going to get an answer out of her somehow.

"No! Malfoy I said that I'm not going to play your games!" She said louder, cutting across what I was saying.

"-you to know-"

"Malfoy! _Stop!" _She slammed her cutlery on the table, and tried silencing me again, getting louder and with more authority in her voice. I smirked but continued.

"-that I actually-"

"Draco!" She shrilled, there was fire in her eyes and she stood up so quickly that her chair toppled over backwards.

That was the one word that could silence me.

It was quite happy hearing my name slip from her lips without her meaning to. It sounded nice coming from her, even if she was angry at me again. In the back of my mind, I wondered about how our shouting hadn't woken anyone else up yet. I tightly shut my mouth with a snap and tried my best to stop the amused look on my face. "What?" I said, failing to keep the laughter out of my voice. "I was merely telling you something, like I had said I would."

"Fine," she growled, slowly picking her chair up and sitting back down. "You want to tell me something? Fine. You can tell me just what the bloody hell you're playing at!"

"Granger, I take a small amount of pride in being able to tell you that I have no damn idea what you're on about."

She turned to Blaise and looked fiercely at him. "Zabini get out," she ordered.

"Merlin woman, have you gone crazy? Why does Blaise need to go anywhere?"

"Because I'm not having him here when I explain things to you." She turned back to him and said, "Zabini. Out."

"I'm alright here actually," he said casually, placing his feet on a place on the table in front of him where it had been cleared of plates.

She glared at him but didn't argue anymore. I figured that she was annoyed enough with me and would have to use all her energy shouting at me about it and therefore wouldn't want to waste her breath on Blaise. "Alright. He can stay here but I'm not letting you delude him into thinking that I've gone mental when you know what I'm going to say is true!"

"I'm pretty sure he is able to make that choice himself without my insistence. I _still_ have no idea what you're on about."

"You damn well do know what I'm talking about! The book that I'm reading is on dreams and what I'm most interested in is the 13th chapter, which is about Dream Invasion. Understand now Malfoy?"

Yes. He did understand now, thinking about her book that he had read last weekend. So, she thought that he was invading her dreams. It wasn't a wild guess though, that's why he'd marked the page. Technically, what was happening compared to Dream Invasion wasn't so different. He could control everything in her dream in both cases, but in his personal case, he didn't have a choice about whether he wanted to interrupt her sleep that night or not. So what was his excuse be if he said that he did know what she was talking about? Had she found out anymore? Did she know that during the dream he was constantly taking the form of a Veela? Has she put the pieces together already?

"I can honestly say that I do understand now that you've made it clearer what you were babbling on about. I can also tell you then "just what the bloody hell I'm playing at" as you requested, and it is with a clear conscience that I tell you that I have not in any way been infiltrating your subconscious."

"Rubbish! The dreams have all the qualities of Dream Invasion!"

"That they may Granger, but there's the little problem of the caster having to be in the same room as the person they're performing it on for it to work at all. I have studied it before in Malfoy Manor's libraries."

"You must've found a way around it."

"Though I am flattered that you think so much of my magical ability and knowledge that I could've found a way around it, I can assure you that I haven't even _tried. _It's not me._"_

She looked greatly confused, as if she had been told that everything she knew was a lie. Granted, she probably did believe that it was me as the dreams did have all evidence pointing towards the certain piece of magic, and the book was so extensive as to tell her something important, such as the conditions in which it must be cast. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she tried to think of a loophole or something that enabled her theory to continue being true. As she thought, I went back to eating, contemplating about whether I wanted to tell her that there are _certain types of magical creatures _that can mess with someone's dreams or whether I wanted to leave that information out.

Blaise looked like he knew exactly what I was thinking, but before either him or myself could say anything, she got up and muttered something about needing to go to the library and left.

I looked over to her plate and sighed. She had barely eaten anything. I didn't bother dragging her back - that wasn't going to get me anywhere with her. She wouldn't respond to orders from me.

Hermione Granger was going to be hard work.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

He jumped up from the ground as someone else left the common room and breathed a sigh of relief.

It was Hermione Granger. Perfect, he didn't have to wait much longer, he thought.

She was distracted though and didn't realise that there was a boy who was quickly approaching her as she regained her balance, spun on her heels and marched straight to the library.

"Hermione! Hey! Granger!" He hollered, trying to get her attention. She stopped when she heard him call his name and turned around, confused; to see a boy coming towards her that she was pretty sure wasn't there a few seconds ago.

She sighed. She was done with distractions and she was tired. She just wanted to solve _one _thing before the day was done. "Yes?" She asked.

"Don't you remember me?" He asked, standing opposite her now, raising an eyebrow.

Seriously, she thought, what was it and boys raising eyebrows today?

"Am I supposed to? You're not in my House..." She racked her brain for a name to place his to.

"I was in the DA. One of the youngest. If I remember correctly, you helped the younger members most of the time while Potter worked on the oldest," he clarified, not completely giving away his identity just yet. Really, he was just stalling for time. He needed to wait until Draco exited the common room too before he did what he was about to. Yes, he did know that there were special Charms on the common room. He could've guessed as much, otherwise who knows what Malfoy would've done if he were still able to control her in a common room.

She shook her head tiredly, giving him a tight-lipped smile. "No, I don't recall your face. Sorry. Was there something that you, um, wanted? I've kind of got somewhere that I need to go to right now..."

"Yes!" He said, perhaps a bit too quickly, he thought, as Hermione's eyebrows drew together in suspicion. "I, uh, actually need to speak to you and Malfoy (he tried to keep the disgust out of his voice). It's important."

Her suspicions still not leaving, she asked cautiously, "Could you not speak to us later into the day? When he too has left the confines of the common room?"

He shook his head. "He'll be out soon. I'm sure."

"Who did you say you were again?"

"I didn't."

Hermione stared at him even more then, desperately trying to work out whom the insufferable Ravenclaw was, but she still couldn't match a face to a name. She couldn't blame herself for it though; it had been three years since they established the DA, she couldn't be expected to remember what one of the young members looked like when they could've changed so much during the years. She was about to say something else, but when she heard the whooshing noise of the portrait, she became silent and looked over her shoulder to see Malfoy (with Blaise standing behind him) and the boy in a heated glaring match.

"What are you doing here, Fifth Year?" Draco snarled.

"Glad to know that _someone _remembers me, Malfoy," he sneered back.

"Hard to forget someone as irritating as you,"

"And how is it that you know him, Ravenclaw?" Hermione asked.

"He broke into the Ravenclaw common room," the boy said.

Malfoy barked a small derisive laugh. "That's not how I remember it Innes," he turned to Hermione and said, "Their common room obviously isn't protected the best if even I can solve the riddle with ease."

"What were you doing up in Ravenclaw Tower anyway Malfoy?"

He waggled his finger at her in a mocking manner. "I've already told you about the dreams Granger; no more secrets."

Hermione sent him a withering glare and looked back to Innes, as she had heard Malfoy called him. And, now that she thought about it, she could remember two people with the surnames Innes in the DA. Both Ravenclaw, but different ages and sexes. They were brother and sister. Jayson and Anastasia, she recalled. Her eyebrows furrowed again as she gazed determinedly at a far wall, thinking.

"Innes," Hermione whispered to herself.

Jayson Innes.

Jayson Innes.

That was the name under the three books that she had wanted to check out on Magical Creatures, wasn't it? It was he who had them. She couldn't pretend to know whether he had taken Care of Magical Creatures or not, but she couldn't think of any other reason for him wanting them too.

Unless this meeting was about something that he had read.

So what did that have to do with her and Malfoy?

"Ah, so you do remember me then," he said smugly.

"Yes I do. Jayson Innes, the youngest at the DA," she nodded her head. "Now, I also remember that you wanted to speak to me and Malfoy-"

"What about?" Draco growled. He didn't like the energy radiating off the boy. There was something suspicious about him and Ravenclaws were too intelligent for their own good, he was afraid that he might've found out something about his heritage. After all, he wanted to speak to both of them about something. That was overly suspicious, wasn't it?

"-so are you going to say anything because like I said Innes, I've got to go," she continued, ignoring Draco's interruption.

"Don't worry," Jayson said, "it won't take but a minute."

And before Hermione knew it, her face was in Jayson's hands.

Her lips pressed to his.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**A/N- Ahh, so you wanted a new chapter and this is what you got...**

Can someone actually tell me why the fuck this chapter changed **_everything _****so much? I wasn't actually planning for this to happen!**

Please favourite , follow and review! 

**BEFORE I ANSWER ANY OTHER QUESTIONS, I HAVE TO DO A SHOUTOUT TO ishiptatsugarde WHO WAS THE ONLY ONE TO CORRECTLY GUESS THE IDENTITY OF THE MYSTERY PERSON (though he's not much of a mystery anymore)!**

**Tilga - I hope that I solved your question about Draco and perhaps gave you more of an insight into Dorothy's character as well as who the mystery person was, as I'm sure everyone wanted to know.**

**Ann - No, I have never actually thought of becoming a writer. I think it'd be brilliant and everything, but when it comes to my ****_own _****stories, I'm not particularly imaginative and I do tend to waffle a lot.**


	21. All Is Revealed

**A/N- Sorry it took a while for this update again! How long was it this time? I can't even remember! Haha! So here it is! Don't get too excited, it's a bit of a cliffhanger! **

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When most people are kissed, they say that either there's an explosion or there isn't. Usually, that's how they decide whether they know that it's _true love. _

And in this kiss, I couldn't deny that there was an explosion. You would've had to be dead not to notice it.

However, I severely doubt that they experience the sort of explosion that I did. Because this explosion, was neither an explosion of butterflies in my stomach nor was it an explosion of fireworks or feelings.

None of those.

This explosion – nay, _eruption – _was the sort of feeling that you get as the Apocalypse is happening.

It was a multitude of different things going wrong as they happened or expecting them even before they did.

The first wrong thing was the fact that my lips were pressed against some Fifth Year's, whose name I had only just remembered moments ago, and yet I already decided that I hated him more than Malfoy.

There wasn't even a weird charm to Innes's arrogance. It was straight up, plain snobbish arrogance that had only seemed to increase, as he had gotten older.

The second thing was that I was unable to detach myself from his grip. His hands held me so tightly that it rather hurt and in such a way that I was unable to shake him off.

Then it was that I suspected that this was nothing more than a revenge plot against Malfoy, though I had no idea what this had to with anything. Other than "breaking" into their common room, what else had he done to warrant such an absurd thing? It wasn't even as if Malfoy liked me enough to get angry over something like this.

_What was Innes thinking?_

The next thing that was wrong was the shouting in the background, a familiar voice shouting words that I never expected to come from his mouth. However, his words were soon mingled with Zabini's shouts, creating a mass of noise that made it difficult to decipher correct words.

It appeared that Innes knew _exactly _what he was doing, the intelligent brat. It was a shocker how he wasn't placed in Slytherin.  
The biggest problem however, was the fact that (though they could be daydreams because Malfoy _is there _when they happen. Therefore, it could jolly well be Dream Invasion _if _it still works the same on daydreams) Innes's lips just weren't...the _same _as Malfoy's - _if they are real memories_ - although I have no idea why'd I'd let him kiss me willingly.

They just weren't as soft, as plump as Malfoy's. They didn't have the same shape, give the same thrill – cloud my thoughts like what happens whenever Malfoy touches me in these experiences.

Then, something happened that I could never have prepared myself for.

There was no other way that I could describe it.

Jayson Innes was ripped from me (_thank Merlin) _and though it happened so fast that I didn't actually see what happened as much as I felt it, the rush of wind indicated that he was easily thrown across the hall like a Quaffle.

I'm sure I wasn't the only one who heard a sickening crack.

My eyes quickly caught on to what was happening. Since having to be on constant alert during the War, especially when a fight broke out and I was momentarily dazed, my eyes now adjusted to my surroundings quickly. Moreover, what I saw not only shocked me but Dorothy as well – her screaming "Good Heavens!" and me turning around to see her run to find another portrait to hide in.

Though I may have not liked Innes for his awful revenge tactic, I feared for him as I saw the back of something that frightfully resembled Malfoy in my dreams, attacking him in such ways that it was almost definite that the boy would not see a new day.  
Nevertheless, that was impossible. Seconds ago, Malfoy was standing just in front of Dorothy with Zabini, looking as he always did – bored and completely uninterested with what I do.

However, turning around, neither of them was there anymore.

How did they move so quickly?

Where _were _they?

The monster couldn't possibly be _Malfoy, _could it? Or Zabini for that matter.

A drew my wand quickly and held it tightly by my side, ready to use it if the monster ever came a step near me. Ready to use it if the monster doesn't stop attacking the boy in less than a minute.

Neither of them have _wings _I'm sure!

_Well apart from Malfoy in my dreams _– _That doesn't count!_ _They're not real! My _imagination_! _

Goddamn where did they go? Did they honestly expect me to be able to deal with this by myself!

Suddenly, the monster in front shifted and I staggered back a few steps as I saw his white blonde hair and pointed face. It would've taken an idiot not to be able to recognise it as Draco Malfoy.

So, this was it.

My dreams showed me what Draco Malfoy truly was. They showed the truth, just as the bittersweets insinuated.

But what _was_ he exactly? I'd never seen anything like it.

I'd never seen something with wings that changed colour as the days went on; never seen any wizard that even_had _wings unless they'd be cursed; never seen anything with such speed or strength.

Moreover, were his hands on _fire_?

My eyes widened when I realised that it truly was fire in his hands and he was looking like he was about to throw it at Innes. I was even more flustered when I realised that I knew exactly what kind of damage he could do with it.

And that's when I realised.

I'd only seen someone shoot fire from their hands once before. There was only one other person who acted as fast as Malfoy, that seemed to be stronger than she should.

Fleur Weasley.

And there was only one thing that made her different to other witches and wizards.

Fleur was part Veela.

I'd only ever seen her very angry when Bill had drunkenly started to pretend to be in love with me as part of all the boys' joke. Fleur clearly didn't see any fun in it and actually got extremely jealous, and I saw fire appear in her hands. That was when Bill "sobered up" and took her to the side to calm her down.

The world spun around me. All thoughts and worries about Innes's welfare disappeared from my mind; all thoughts about Malfoy's fire hands vanished, and the only thing that kept bouncing around in my head was six words:

_Draco Lucius Malfoy is a Veela. _

And of course that meant his whole family were Veela's too because I remember studying Veelas in Fourth Year and reading that it was strictly a hereditary gene.

_That's why he checked out all those books on Veelas! _

_That's why there were bittersweets in the dream!_

With a gasp, I tried with much difficulty to block all thoughts of Draco being a Veela from my mind. To try to make it easier, I busied my mind with creating tasks.

Task one: If Malfoy was- Where was Zabini?

I looked around me, trembling slightly. Zabini would know how to handle this. No doubt he knew that Malfoy was part Veela. He'd probably know how to remove him from Innes (who I saw, looking a bit closer, was weakly – compared to Malfoy – fighting him off), what spells to use to attack him if there were any specific ones.

I knew he was somewhere though. He had to be. There was no way that he'd abandon his friend when he was like this. I belatedly realised that there was shouting coming from somewhere, and I was sure that I could just about recognise the voice as Zabini's over all the shouting.

I jumped moments later, when I felt a hand on my right shoulder. I looked to the side and saw that he had somehow materialised next to me. His wand was out too, and his stance was defensive and though he looked almost as panicked as I was, he was slightly calmer. I remembered with a start that he had what looked like to be a less violent version of this scuffle with Malfoy in the library no more than a few weeks ago. There was no doubt in my mind now that Zabini knew what to do.

He did something then, after all, didn't he?

"So you know now Granger," Zabini said in a strained voice.

I paused for a moment, thinking about what to say. There was no way that I could lie about this. It was clear about what I saw and I'd easily understand what it all was. "Yes," I breathed, not being able to think of anything else to say. He just absent-mindedly nodded his head.

"You must realise why we didn't tell you earlier," he said, then fired a _stupefy _that hit Malfoy exactly between his wings. He slowed slightly at the after effects, but other than that, it was as if the spell never hit him. I pushed down a strangled sounding noise that rose in my throat.

I really needed to refresh my memory on Veelas.

I didn't reply to him. How could I? I didn't actually know what he was capable of, or what he'd do if I had known, though I could imagine. Following Zabini's example, I threw my own _stupefy _at him, mine hitting him square on the back, he slowed a bit more again, but continued on his attack. However, now that he was at a reasonably normal speed, Innes was able to hold his own better against him now.

"Just keeping throwing them, he'll pass out soon. I mean, I hope he will – I've already hit him with two and not much has happened. He's gotten stronger, almost," Blaise said, thinking more aloud than talking to me.

"Well, his wings are whitening," I said, remembering what he usually goes on about in the dreams. "Maybe that has something to do with it."

Blaise just gave me a sideways glance with his eyebrows raised, but didn't say anything. It was silent between us for a while, as we shuffled about, trying to get a better standing opposite Malfoy in order to get a better aim. He took in a big breath as his spell skimmed past Malfoy's arm, mere centimetres away from hitting him, and said, "Anyway, once he's down, you take Innes to Madam Pomfrey and tell her that I'll come explain everything later. I'll take Malfoy back to the common room – he's safe there. There are charms placed around it. I'll talk to you later about everything with Malfoy."

I was about to say that he didn't need to explain anything to me, I knew exactly what Malfoy was and I don't care to know any more about him – to be honest, it'd be great if I could just forget what I found out – but, I held my tongue. Whether I said anything or not, both boys would try to explain to me what this entire episode was about and I'd be sucked into their lies and secrets quicker than I could say Quidditch. Instead, I threw another _stupefy,_following Zabini's orders, one of his hitting Malfoy seconds after. By now, he had become slower than a normal wizard or witch and Innes was taking full advantage, throwing blow after blow anywhere he could get to on Malfoy's body; but it didn't seem as if he was gaining any injuries.

Veela trait, I suppose.

With one last _stupefy, _Malfoy collapsed on top of Innes, his wings retracting into his back as he fell. Innes tried to move out the way as he fell, but he was laid upon half way through his roll. As we speedily walked over to him, he was aggressively kicking and shoving the heavy body off him, but not to much avail. By the time we reached him, however, he had just managed to get out from underneath the body and started kicking him whilst he was unconscious. It must've been out of sheer pleasure though, because as I noticed earlier, Malfoy wasn't gaining any injuries – even when Innes stomped on his face – and he didn't even seem surprised at it.

I whirled on him. "You knew, didn't you?" I accused.

"That the git's a Veela? Of course I knew. I heard these two buffoons talking in the library," he replied casually, gesturing to Blaise and then the body on the floor with thinly veiled disgust for the latter. "Who's superior now, fucking _Pureblood?" _He swung another kick at his stomach with enough power to make him flop over onto his back. I shoved him out of the way, and took a stand in front of Malfoy's body so that he was unable to attack him anymore.

"So what was this all about, anyway? Were you just trying to make a fool out of him?" I asked, folding my arms, as I saw Zabini trying haul Malfoy up from under his arms.

He was about to say something, the smug grin on his face, but it seemed that something behind me made him stop. I looked over my shoulder to see Zabini give him one final glare before going back to shuffling Malfoy around. Innes looked no less smug, however, but he didn't say anything to me; just shrugged and after a pause, muttered something that sounded like, "You're the Brightest Witch, you'll figure it out."

I gave him an unimpressed look, stepped forward and grabbed his arm to drag him down to the Hospital, following Zabini's orders, but he gave a sharp gasp and I dropped his arm, afraid that I had unintentionally hurt him. He cradled his left arm to his chest and continued walking, a little bit in front of me, only muttering that it's broken as he passed me.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"What happened, Mr Innes?" Madam Pomfrey fussed, as she took his left arm and examined just how badly it was broken, using spells as means of an x-ray.

I piped in then, relaying the words I'd been told to say. "There was just a small scuffle miss. Blaise, uh, will be here later to explain everything," I said. She looked at me in a way that said she didn't believe for one minute that someone could come away with Innes' injuries from just a "small scuffle". She also had a look of understanding about her, as if she knew _why _Blaise would be back later and whom the other participant of this fight involved.

"Anything else, Miss Granger?" There seemed to be more than one implication in that one question and I struggled to answer it.

"I don't know anything else." This, of course, was true. I don't know anything else about this fight at all; Innes refused to say the details and reasons the entire way up here and if I wanted more information (which I'm still not sure about) then I'd have to wait until later.

She nodded her head and turned back to Innes. She told him that he'd have to stay there for a while, much to his disappointment and protest, but much to my delight, she forced him to have some Skele-Grow so that he would get out quicker – just as he wanted.

Malfoy had, apparently, broken his arm in three different places and had given him a concussion (I had found this out the hard way when he just leaned over a vomited from the bed, very close to my feet), which resulted in him having a rather large bump on his head. One of his shoulders were close to being dislocated, and his ribs are quite bruised as well as having a slightly swollen ankle, though he walked perfectly fine on it on the way here.

I had decided that it was probably because of the concussion.

But apart from those injuries, all he had were bruises on his skin and cuts here and there.

"Well, consider yourself lucky that you haven't been burnt. You'd be in her for at least another day," she had told him, smirking, but also with open curiosity as to how he didn't receive any burns as if she knew there was fire involved.

After reminding her that Zabini would be around later, I left. I reigned in my desire to go visit the library and research Veela's myself, but I gave myself even more will power when I remembered that I actually had (hopefully a more informative) book on Veela's in my room. I sighed and turned down the halls to get back to the common room.

When I regained my balance after entering, I noticed that only Zabini was in the common room.

Void of all my friends and void of the blonde Veela-ferret.

He stood up from the table and chairs, as soon as he saw me and in some form of greeting, just said: "Draco's going to be out for a while. I'll give you a basic outline of what's what."

I nodded mutely and walked slowly over to the chair opposite him. He sat back down, once I had, as a proper gentleman but didn't say anything. The silence engulfed us for a few minutes, and he avoided my eyes. It was as if he was thinking of how this whole thing would go.

With a sigh, I decided that I needed to start it off and said, "So go on then. Explain. Right from the beginning."

And he launched into the story, starting from when he found out, a few weeks before the beginning of the school year.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**A/N- Hey, favourite, follow and review please! Any thoughts on how Hermione's going to take this all?**

**Now for just some shameless promo-ing! **

**And guys, guess what?! I'm now on FictionPress! It'd be wonderful if some of you guys could go on there and check out out my own original story called "The Stone Statues"? I'll be constantly adding parts to it all the time though, because I decided I wanted to write a book and I'll be changing my mind a lot! It'd be great if you could read it and leave a review of what you think? **

**And, I'm also working on a story together with Chels-Chels18 called The Cursed, so it'd be amazing if you could check that Dramione out as well and leave a review too! **

**Thank you! **


	22. Expectations and Explanations

"So I found out a couple of weeks before the start of the year about him being a Veela-"

"And you just believed him? Was there even any evidence that he was?"

Blaise shot Hermione a glare for interrupting him, but answered her question anyway. "Yes. I trust him. I trusted him not to lie about something like this, and I hadn't seen him since his 17th birthday anyway, so if there was something new about him, I wouldn't have known."

Hermione nodded. Not that she would've trusted him as easily as Blaise if she were him unless she'd seen as much evidence as she had now, but then again she reasoned, she wasn't as close to Malfoy as they were. She didn't ask another question, knowing that 17 years old was when Veelas came into their inheritance and 18 years old is when they is their possible expiration date.

"Now, no more interrupting otherwise it'll take hours to explain. And, besides, I think the Veela would be able to answer them better than me." Blaise took a deep breath and started again. "So I found out a couple of weeks before the start of the year about him being a Veela, when he Flooed me to come over immediately. He had just-" There was a pregnant silence for a minute as he seemed to struggle to find the words, before he just managed to say, "he had just come back from a Seer in Knockturn Alley to receive a prediction on who his...Mate is. I won't go into detail about what a Mate is and how they are discovered – that's something for Malfoy to explain – but you should know, before you have any doubts, that when it comes to predicting Mates, Seers are always 100% accurate.

We then came back for our Eighth Year, and decided to keep his heritage a secret, as I'm sure you'll agree, things wouldn't go down so well for the not-so-Pureblood Malfoys. Well, we had come to Hogwarts thinking that it was a secret, but Draco had found out that, in fact, the entire Magical Creatures department, the Minister of Magic and the whole Hogwarts staff know. However, out of the students, only I, Innes and Lovegood know – and of course, now you. The whole time we've been here, we've been learning about the traits of Veelas and their behaviours. Truly, I'm almost surprised that no one else has put any of it together – we haven't been very careful."

"No you have not, and now Mr Malfoy must pay the consequences," an old voice, which they quickly recognised as McGonagall's, said from behind them.

"Professor?" Blaise asked, standing up from his seat at the table. "What consequences?"

"Not that it is much of your concern Mr Zabini, but Mr Malfoy was warned a few weeks ago what would happen if there was another incident involving one of the students." She paused as her eyes roamed the common room before finding their way back to the two students in front of her. "And by his lack of appearance, I am guessing that he is unconscious in his room, in which case, I need you to pass a message on to him. Tell him to pack his bags for a few days. He leaves tomorrow morning. His parents will pick him up at the station," she explained.

"But Headmistress, in his defence, he was provoked. Jayson Innes from Ravenclaw, he – he – please Headmistress if I could just explain-" Blaise said frantically, trying to find an excuse for Draco to stay. He didn't want Draco to leave without explaining anything to Hermione – Blaise had decided as explaining some things to Hermione that there were some things that only Draco had to tell her, such as the important fact of their destinies. However, McGonagall held up her hand to stop him.

"I understand the factors in the fight Mr Zabini," she said, her eyes focusing on Hermione for a moment before sliding back to look at Blaise, "but the fact the remains the same. I shall give Innes detentions for a month because of the severity of the action, if it's any consolation, but Draco Malfoy will be going home."

Blaise opened his mouth to speak again, but he was silenced once again by McGonagall.

"I'm not debating this topic anymore," she said with a tone of finality, turning around and heading back to the portrait. Before she walked through the door in the portrait that Dorothy gave her access to though, she turned around and said to the both of them, "if you want him here to explain his...Veela heritage, then I suggest you get him up now."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

An hour later saw a groaning, unimpressed Draco sitting next to Blaise, opposite Hermione on the table in the common room. Luckily, no Eighth Years had shown up to come into the room, but Hermione had an uneasy feeling about it, as if something was wrong. Even Dorothy had an unusual disappearance from her portrait; especially since being created, she hadn't left it for even a short amount of time to go exploring around the castle.

Unfortunately, for her, her almost nervous look hadn't gone unnoticed by either of the Slytherins.

"Something wrong Granger?" Blaise asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Don't worry, contrary to popular belief, I don't bite," Malfoy said and tried to grin, though it came out more like a grimace. "Blaise, do me a favour and go get that bottle of Head Calmer before my head explodes. I don't know where you put it after you took it from me ages ago." Blaise sighed, but otherwise stood up to go and retrieve the bottle for Draco.

"I'm not scared of you Malfoy," Hermione retorted, schooling her features into nonchalance as she watched Blaise run up the stairs.

"Well you should be," he said smoothly, leaning across the table towards her, his eyes catching hers.

"And why should I? Especially when the charms on the common room mean that, when you're in here, you're just an ordinary wizard," she said coolly, also leaning forward.

Neither heard Blaise come back down the stairs, but neither even jumped as Blaise cleared his throat as he walked towards the table. Draco merely took the bottle from him, treated himself to a rather large spoonful of the potion, and then reluctantly had to hand the bottle back to Blaise. He clearly felt better, however, as he just leaned back on his chair and threw his feet on the table. They landed in front of Hermione's face with a thud and only met her glare as she too leaned back, with an amused smirk.

"Anyway, not that I expect much truth to come out of _your _mouth either, but as Zabini was explaining to me the "basic outline of what's what", there were some things that he obviously chose not to explain and then there were parts that he said _you'd _have to explain. So I'd like to hear it."

"Look here Granger; I'm not some 'pet' of that oaf Hagrid. You can't just research or observe me, take down notes, write an essay and then try pretend to understand or know me, or, Merlin forbid _give me sympathy."  
_  
"If you think that I see you as something as defenceless as say, a House-Elf, then you are dearly wrong Malfoy. Seeing as you two have driven me half-mad over these few months with _your _Veela heritage problem, I thought that it would be perhaps, in Pureblood politeness, that you at least give a suitable explanation of what you've been doing or teaching me some things about Veelas would also be acceptable."

"It looks like _someone_ is a closet Slytherin," Blaise muttered, though it was loud enough for everyone to hear.

Hermione only flashed him a fake grin. "When dealing with Slytherins, it does help to change your tactics in order to get what you want."  
"Well, considering I'm not truly a Pureblood, the "politeness" that I owe you is cancelled out," Draco drawled.

"Fine then." Hermione said, standing up. "I'll just go and pay a visit to Innes and ask him what he knows about you. I mean, he obviously knows something – he did overhear you talking in the library after all – and I did notice that you, Zabini, weren't too happy on him telling me about the attack."

"The boy's a vengeful bastard who hates me and my family, how trustworthy do you think he is?" Draco said, also standing up.  
"Well at least I have something in common with him," she remarked, but Draco's unimpressed look, she sighed and tried something else. "If you don't do some explaining, then I shall tell the Slytherins that you apologised, – though, ever the _romantic _didn't sign the note so that no one would know it was him - gave me a bracelet and a flower and Innes won't be the only one who hates you. And you know what? I might also accidentally slip in that their so-called Prince isn't actually a Pureblood, but a half-breed. Also I might sell this bracelet and give the money to the Weasleys."

"And how exactly, did you come to the conclusion that I gave you that?" He asked nonchalantly, looking at the bracelet on her wrist.

"Oh, funny thing that was. I was sitting in the common room the other day, fiddling with it, when I realised that only a rich Pureblood could afford such a thing like this and interestingly enough, there was one family that sprung to mind. I wouldn't have thought of them at all, if for the whole time that I'd been at school with him, he didn't brag about how he could afford anything; how he was _the _richest family." She gave a small smile to them, knowing that she had him cornered. "Now, shall we start? Or do you not mind losing your reputation?"

"Hermione Granger, it would be nice if you let someone else have a triumph for once," Draco grinned.

"Well, if you're lucky, once you tell me I'll leave you two alone. That's a good enough prize, is it not?"

"Very well." He looked away from Hermione and at Blaise and told him that he could leave, since there was nothing left that he needed to say. The only people who really needed to be there was Draco and Hermione. Blaise agreed, but before leaving, he sent Draco a look that hoped that he would tell her everything.

Then, still smirking, Draco launched into an explanation of _everything. _In the back of his mind, he was reminding himself that he had been forced into this so there was no reason for him to look even moderately amused. Nevertheless, he couldn't help it; Hermione was a girl after his own heart.

He felt that he should start at explaining the traits of a Veela. The fact that he had the rare trait of throwing fire and that he was a male Veela, obviously, so he had wings (though he left out the whitening part); the heightened smell, hearing, sight, taste and touch. All of which, Hermione listened to with rapt attention.

Once he finished that topic, a sense of panic started to creep in once he realised that the only other thing – the thing that everything in a Veelas life revolved around – was the Mate. Hermione was clever, no doubt about that after she had cornered them, she could easily piece things together, he thought. Was there a way to tell her briefly but so that she didn't have much information to work on? No, that just sounded ludicrous.

He released a slow breath and smiled calmly, hiding his true emotions. "That's it Granger. Everything you need to know."  
"That's not true. There's something else," she said, looking at him curiously.

"Oh really? Like what?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, trying his best to look amused.

"Blaise mentioned that you'd explain about Veelas having a Mate."

Draco's eyebrows drew together in frustration at her curiosity. "No," he said simply, crossing his arms and sitting back in his chair.

"We had a deal Malfoy-"

"Show me the contract," he snapped, his mood quickly turning sour.

Hermione glared at him. "You've been cooperative so far."

"Not on this matter."

"And why not?"

"You won't like it," he said simply.

She stared confidently into his grey orbs and said, "Try me."

Draco stood up, walked around the table, and sat in the chair next to her, his eyes boring into hers. "Alright, fine," he sighed. "Have it your way _Princess."  
_  
He then launched into that explanation. About how at birth every Veela has a destined Mate and that a Veela could go to a Seer and receive a cryptic prediction about who it was. They would have until their 18th birthday to bond with their Mate or they'd die – unless they lost days because of upsetting them -, and until then, they had a countdown on their chest of how long until they died. Though protected by laws, a Mate could not be forced into being with a Veela, and if the Mate died, the Veela would kick the bucket too. And although he had earlier said that the Veelas wings were black, he mentioned that the closer that one would get to their Mate, the quicker they would whiten.

From there, he didn't try to keep much a secret, since from the fact that he mentioned the whitening of wings her face had been the epitome of astonishment and the more he said, the clearer he saw understanding dawn on her face. He, however, never said outright that she was his Mate. Though she probably knew, he wanted to keep the confirmation to himself. Nevertheless, to her credit, she didn't leave as he had expected her to; she didn't interrupt either, just sat there and waited for him to finish.

He was barely finished, when he heard an angry noise outside the common room and the sudden reappearance of Dorothy who was frantically saying, "Not all at once! Not all at once!" A silence fell over the two as Draco stood up slowly, staring at the portrait, and Hermione watched him confusedly. Walking closer and looking a bit harder at the portrait, Draco could make out the bodies of the Eighth Year students, but most importantly Harry and Ron's - and by their facial expressions, they looked angry. As they came closer to the twister, Draco backed away, not wanting to be caught alone with the Gryffindor Princess; if Potter and Weasley see him alone with her, it might get him into trouble with the Golden Duo for no reason other than they really didn't like him, especially near Hermione.

Looking at the watch on his wrist, he decided that it was late enough anyway and he still had to pack for a few days at the Manor – well, mostly just everything that was of value. He didn't want to stay down any longer and look at Hermione, who was still sitting there quietly, barely even looking at him; and he didn't want to be accused of something that most likely wasn't even his fault by the Eighth Year cavalry. Not even nodding a goodbye to Hermione, Draco walked quickly up the stairs to his room and continued going even when he was hearing Hermione call his name, asking what he was doing. He was just opening his door when Ron and Harry dropped into the room and started shouting.

"Where is he? She said that he was here!"

"Did you know about this Hermione?"

"Know about what?"

"That lying ferret is part Veela and he's claimed _you _as his Mate!"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**A/N- So it's been about 2 months since I last update - so sorry for that! School was ending, there were important exams, I came close to having another asthma attack and had to stay in hospital a while.**

I wasn't really sure about how to go about this chapter as well. Originally, I was going to have Hermione guess that she was his Mate, to both their utter **astonishment, but I just couldn't write it like that.  
**  
**Once again for the waiting time and the shortness of this, but please favourite and review! **


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